Hand of Faith
by Hogwarts Angel
Summary: What happens when you spend your life being number one, and suddenly you find someone else has beaten you? Why, you get angry of course! But what happens when that person offers to help you...? Will eventually be DH romance. Rated M for later content.
1. Chapter 1

**Hand of Faith**

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter! J.K Rowling with all of her fabulousness does.

A/N: Well here I am again. I really hope you guys like this one because the other one..I'm not sure it'll be finished. I kinda lost my muse (but she could come back someday!) Also, this was written without regards to the twins leaving Hogwarts at the end of their 6th year. According to my story, they're still there. Another thing, the Weasleys are once again living in the manor. Anyhow, enjoy!

**Unexpected**

This could not be happening. Hermione Granger slowly stepped back to the side of her bed and dropped onto it, her legs feeling like lead. Her head whirling, she raised the letter to read it for the third time. The words did not change.

_Miss Granger,_

_We are saddened to inform you that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will not be starting off the school year on the regular date. This is due to the fact that Headmaster Albus Dumbledore has fallen ill. The school board is unsure about the length of time his recovery will take, and as such we have postponed the beginning of the school year to September the twenty-first. We are sorry if this causes any confusion, but we feel that it is for the best. The train will be leaving King's Cross at the same time (eleven a.m.) on the morning of the twenty-first, so be prepared. Enjoy your extended summer._

_Yours Sincerely, _

_Minerva McGonagall_

Taking a shaky breath, Hermione tried to sort through the questions crowding her brain. Dumbledore was ill? Just how ill was he for them to have to postpone the start of term? What about those students who had to travel far to reach King's Cross? Surely they would have left already. After all, it was the thirtieth of August. Although Hermione knew that McGonagall had ways of informing those students of this abrupt change, part of her wondered if she would even think about them in the haste of sending out all of the letters.

She made a quick decision, whipping out parchment to write Ron and Harry to see what they thought about it. She vaguely wondered in the back of her mind if they had received the news as well. As she scribbled out a quick message, she told herself they most likely had.

_Ron (and Harry if you're there), _

_I just got the strangest letter about ten minutes ago from Hogwarts. It says that the start of term has been postponed because Dumbledore is ill! Did you guys get one, too? Well, what I'm wondering is just how ill Dumbledore would have to be for them to postpone the start of school. I mean, we've run school without him there before, right? So why pick this time to change the routine? Anyways, write back soon and let me know what you think._

_Hermione_

Sealing the letter, Hermione handed it to her owl along with a treat. After watching it take flight through the open window, she raced downstairs to inform her parents of the recent message. On the desk beside her window, an open textbook lay abandoned.

---------------

The peak of Oak Crest hill was alive and blooming. Lush green grass framed bright and beautiful flowers in many exotic colors. Squirrels scampered among trees and bushes on their hunt for nuts. Birds sang and bees buzzed happily about the flowers and berries growing among the various plants. The beauty of summer had fared the wildlife well, and it was enjoying its last days before fall and winter covered the hill once more. The beauty was lost, however, on a group of rowdy boys that had their minds set on winning rather than on the paradise surrounding them. You see, these particular boys were playing quidditch.

The game was coming to a close. Ron passed their makeshift quaffle to Harry, who raced to the goal posts on the opposite side with Fred tailing behind him. Looking back, Harry noticed Fred's proximity and crouched lower on his broom, grasping the handle so hard that his knuckles turned white. Feeling the wind rushing through his hair, he willed his broom to move faster. As he neared the goal posts, Harry wrenched the handle of his broom up and launched the quaffle towards the right goal. He watched as George, keeper for him and Fred, took off from the left, determination etched into his face. Ron and Harry watched both ball and boy with excitement; Fred looked on with fear. Then, as if time was speeding up, all three watched as the large red ball soared through the hole, just inches away from George's fingers.

A round of cheers and high fives burst forth from Harry and Ron. Fred and George patted them on the back amiably, a bit discouraged by the loss, but willing to be good sports.

"Good job there, mate," George told Harry as they began their descent from the hilltop. "I never saw that coming. Normally you aim for the left goal."

"I know," Harry replied. "That's why I knew you would be there."

"We should head back. Bill and Charlie will be here soon, and we'd better get to bed soon anyways so we can be up early tomorrow to catch the train," Ron cut in.

The four boys laughed and chatted along the way, reaching the house just as the sun began setting in the west. Entering through the kitchen door, they split up into pairs, Harry and Ron going upstairs to put their brooms in Ron's room while the twins headed to their own room. When the two boys arrived in Ron's room, however, they found letters awaiting them. They each reached for the ones addressed to them.

Unrolling the parchment he had grabbed, Ron recognized Hermione's neat script.

_Ron (and Harry if you're there), _

_I just got the strangest letter about ten minutes ago from Hogwarts. It says that the start of term has been postponed because Dumbledore is ill! Did you guys get one, too? Well, what I'm wondering is just how ill Dumbledore would have to be for them to postpone the start of school. I mean, we've run school without him there before, right? So why pick this time to change the routine? Anyways, write back soon and let me know what you think._

_Hermione_

Rereading the letter to make sure he had read it right, the baffled Ron turned to tell Harry about Hermione's news. The grim look on Harry's face made him suspect that Harry already knew. Trading letters, the two boys quickly scanned them. Harry was the first to speak.

"Dumbledore's ill?" he asked, almost as if thinking aloud. "Hermione's right. We have run the school without him before, so why change things now?"

"I don't know," Ron replied. "There hasn't been anything about Dumbledore being ill in the paper, though."

"Yeah. I was thinking that, too."

"Do you think Fred and George got letters?" Ron asked, looking up. "They go to Hogwarts, too, after all."

Harry nodded, and they headed to the door, wanting to discuss things with the twins. Ron wondered if they had heard anything that he and Harry might have missed. Opening the door, they watched as the door across the hall opened simultaneously. Fred and George walked out of the bedroom, and the four boys found themselves face to face in the hallway.

"Did you guys get letters, too?" both Ron and George asked anxiously. They both abruptly stopped talking, each waiting for the other to speak. Harry piped up.

"We should ask you guys' dad if he's heard anything at the ministry about Dumbledore."

Agreeing, the other three boys hurried to follow Harry, who had set off down the stairs at a frenzied pace. He reached the kitchen and looked around, seeing hide nor hair of Arthur. They spread out to search the house. Fred found him in the den with Molly in front of a roaring fire.

"They're in here!" he cried, waiting until everyone crowded into the small room before he began speaking to his confused parents.

"Have you heard any news at the ministry about Dumbledore recently?" Fred asked his father, "Because we just got letters from the school about him."

"No," Arthur replied, his voice bordering on curiosity. "What exactly did those letters say?"

The boys exchanged looks of disbelief.

"Are you sure that you haven't heard anything?" Ron asked, now appearing extremely worried.

"Positive," was the prompt reply. "Now, what about those letters?" His question went unanswered, however, because the boys were already running back up the stairs.

Parting ways with Fred and George in the hallway, Ron once again entered his bedroom, more confused than he had been when leaving it not ten minutes before.

"What do you think is going on?" he asked, gazing out of the small window on the far wall. When Harry didn't reply, Ron turned to find him sitting on his bed. "Harry?" he tried again. Silence. Striding over to join him on the edge of the bed, Ron gently nudged Harry's shoulder. Finally responding, Harry slowly turned to look at him, his face solemn.

"What if he's so sick that he's not going to make it?" he asked after a moment. He looked apprehensive, almost as if he feared Ron's answer.

"Nah," Ron told him off-handedly, "we don't even know for sure that anything's wrong. This could just be a lie so that the ministry will let them close the school," he added for good measure. He knew that Dumbledore was like family to Harry and had taken care of him all through his years at Hogwarts up until now. Harry would be devastated if anything happened to Dumbledore.

"Yeah but what if something really did happen to him?" Harry asked. "What if it's not just a lie?"

"Harry, you already know that the chances of Dumbledore getting himself seriously hurt are a million to one. The bloke may be old but he's not daft. Even if he is sick or something, he'll recover. I'm sure he's lying down thinking of riddles at this very moment. They probably had to give him some extra time to get back in shape because Pomfrey demanded it or something," Ron replied. Harry noticed he looked confident.

"You sure?" he asked hesitantly.

"You'll see, Harry, he'll be sitting in the great hall right as rain come the start of term."

They both jumped as Ginny opened the door, peeking around to gaze at the both of them upon Ron's bed.

"Bill and Charlie are here," she announced. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she saw the look on Harry's face.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"None of your business," Ron cut in, giving her an annoyed look. "What does it matter to you?"

His words snapped Ginny out of her sympathy. Glaring, she threw back at Ron, "I have a heart, that's why!" She shut the door with a snap, and the two boys heard her bounding down the stairs.

"Well, I guess we'd better go down and see what they're up to," Ron stated as he walked to the door, turning around to look at Harry expectantly. Catching the more than subtle hint, Harry followed him to the living room, deep in thought. He couldn't stop thinking about Dumbledore's "illness". He wondered why there wouldn't be anything in the news about it, or at least the paper. Although Fudge wasn't exactly Dumbledore's biggest fan at the moment, there would have to be _something _mentioned, especially with that blasted Skeeter woman around. Dumbledore was a pretty important person in the wizarding world, what with him being the only person alive that Voldemort wouldn't dare challenge. Lost in his train of thought, he let out a sound of surprise when he bumped into Ron, then found himself with a hand clamped firmly over his mouth.

"Be quiet, will you!" Ron whispered harshly in his ear. "They're talking about Dumbledore!"

Harry fought to listen over the sound of his heart beating loudly in his ears. After a moment of laboring to quiet his breathing, he thought he heard the sound of Arthur's voice coming from the kitchen. Thankfully, it didn't sound as if he'd heard him. He crept closer, the voice getting louder.

"What did they say?"

"I don't know. I didn't overhear much. Something about Lucius Malfoy being up for trial soon." This sounded like Charlie's voice.

"Did they say anything about when or where?"

"Just that it had something to do with Dumbledore."

Now Harry was intrigued. Looking behind him to see what Ron thought, he caught sight of him motioning back towards the stairs. Although he desperately wanted to hear more, he knew that they could get caught at any moment. It would be better if they never knew he and Ron had heard anything. Creeping quietly up the stairs, they turned around and headed once again towards the kitchen, making as much noise as possible.

"Don't storm down the house, dear," Molly reprimanded Ron as he and Harry entered the kitchen to find his father and Charlie sitting at the table.

"Sorry, mum," he apologized, seating himself next to his brother. "How was your trip?" he asked, turning to Charlie.

"It went well," Charlie responded. "We were a bit put off when they delayed our floo to the ministry, but it's all for the best what with all of the dementors running around. No one ever gets the chance to call in when they see one of them, poor defenseless blokes, so they're bloody difficult to keep track of," he added, referring to the mass of deaths that had recently occurred when the dementors had joined Voldemort's ranks. "Dumbledore told the ministry they wouldn't stay loyal, what with Voldemort offering so many victims for them to suck the lives out of. Of course, they didn't listen, though. They couldn't see past their bloody arses and do something good for the community for once."

"Do watch your language when you're speaking around your brother, Charlie," Molly told him, giving him a stern glance as she set down two cups of coffee in front of him and Arthur. Ron had an urge to tell her that he himself had said much worse before, but then thought better of it. He also wanted to keep his head firmly on his shoulders.

Harry, who was sitting behind them, noticed that someone was missing from the kitchen. Several people, in fact. "Where's Bill?" he asked. "Ginny said that both of you were here."

"He's out in the car we rented getting his stuff. Fred, George, and Ginny are helping him out since they were the first ones down here. I guess you got lucky," Charlie told them, laughing.

"Well now that I've got you two in front of me, I wanted to ask you a question," Mr. Weasley began. "What exactly were those letters about, those ones you got from the school about Dumbledore?"

"Oh," Ron breathed. "I guess we forgot to tell you earlier, huh?"

"Here," Harry interrupted, pulling a folded letter from his robe pocket. "I stuffed mine in here when we came downstairs." He handed Arthur the letter. "Go ahead and read it." Then he was struck by a thought. "Wait. Hasn't Ginny told you?"

"I was on my way down to tell him, but then I got recruited to the travel bag team," Ginny grunted from the window in the kitchen door. "Help!" she whined, reaching feebly for the door handle. Her mother got there first, opening the door and ushering her inside. Fred and George were right behind her. They dropped their loads in the doorway to the living room.

"Charlie's trying to get the trunk to close," Fred explained when he saw the puzzled look on his mother's face. "I think there's something in the way, but I'm not about to tell him that. Bloody dodgy when he's in a mood like that one. I don't fathom I'll enjoy getting hit by one of his curses. He is the one Ginny learned everything from, after all. He's the reason we treat our little sister so dearly." He turned to Ginny, who was blushing fiercely.

"Well, do you boys want some coffee? I just made a fresh pot," Molly offered, pulling three chairs out from the table and motioning for the three of them to sit down. "Do you want some coffee, dear?" she added as Bill walked in, looking gruff. She took his grunt as an agreement and pulled a fourth cup from the cupboard. Bill joined the rest of the family at the table.

"There was some bloody thing stuck where the trunk was supposed to meet the rest of the car," Bill ranted. "It's too bad I didn't figure it out until after I had managed to clip my fingers in there a few times." He nursed a couple of reddened fingers on his right hand. Fred and George caught each other's eyes and snickered. Molly set four cups of steaming coffee in front of the twins, Bill, and Ginny. She took the last seat at the table.

"Well that's interesting," Arthur joined in, having just finished reading the letter Harry had handed him. "It looks like we won't be getting up early tomorrow after all."

"What?" Charlie questioned, and Arthur handed him the letter. "Oh," he said after reading it. "Dumbledore's ill? Does this have anything to do with The Order?"

"If it does, then I haven't been informed," Arthur replied, dropping his head into his hands. He sighed, lifting it once more. "Is this why you boys had a thousand questions about Dumbledore all of a sudden?" he asked.

"Well, yeah," Harry nodded. "It just doesn't make any sense that there hasn't been any news about Dumbledore, even at the ministry, and yet apparently it's bad enough that they're delaying the start of term."

"I'm not sure it's the truth, and if it is, someone's doing a very good job to keep it covered up," Charlie joined in. "Something's not right here. Maybe we should pay a visit to Snape. We can contact him securely on Order business, right?" he asked, turning to Arthur.

Arthur nodded. "That would be a great place to start. I'd be shocked if Snape didn't know what was going on."

Harry looked back and forth between Arthur and Charlie. "If you guys find out anything, you'll let us know, right?" he asked anxiously. He wanted to know that Dumbledore would be alright.

"You'll be the first to hear from us," Arthur confirmed, noticing Harry's anxiety.

Bill spoke up. "Didn't we hear some blokes at the ministry talking about Dumbledore?"

Charlie and Arthur quieted him with a glare. Ron, Harry, Ginny, and the twins looked on with sudden interest.

"What did they say?" Ginny asked eagerly.

"Bill, you must have been mistaken. Nobody there was talking about Dumbledore," Charlie cut in, still giving Bill a stern look.

"I think it's time that you children head up to bed," Arthur quickly added to break the awkward silence pervading the room. "It's pretty late." Turning to Bill and Charlie, he added, "Grab your bags, boys, and I'll help you carry some of them up to Fred and George's room." Then, turning back to the twins, he told them he'd bring their beds to Ron's room shortly.

Protesting the less than subtle hints from their father that he wanted to talk to Bill and Charlie alone, Ron and the twins groaned in protest.

"Why do they have to sleep in my room?" Ron asked in an annoyed voice. "Why can't Ginny just sleep with you and mum so that they can have her room? It's not like she needs much space anyways. All she needs is a mirror and she'll be happy!"

Ginny squealed in indignation. "Oh, bugger off, Ronald!" she grit out through clenched teeth, the tips of her ears red. "You'll survive!" She stomped upstairs to her room, slamming the door in her fury.

"Why must you be so rude to your sister, Ronald Weasley?" Molly asked, heading after her. "I want to see you in her room in five minutes to apologize, and then I want you in bed. All four of you," she added, looking at the four boys in the room.

"Mum!" Ron started to protest, but he fumed in silence as she turned around to shoot him her famous 'I'm-going-to-kill-you' look, then resumed her path up the stairs. He sighed. "I guess we'd better head up to bed."

As the four boys climbed the stairs to their rooms, Harry pulled Ron aside into the bathroom. Speaking in a hushed voice, he said anxiously to Ron, "Do you always have to be so mean to Ginny?" As Ron stuttered out excuses, in confusion as to why his best friend had confronted him, Harry quieted him with a meaningful look. He walked out of the bathroom and continued up the stairs, leaving a befuddled Ron behind.

The four boys headed up the stairs to their rooms. After a short while of rushing to get pajamas, brush their teeth, and moving Fred and George's beds, and then a quick absence from Ron, they found themselves lying in bed, the room dark and silent. Harry broke it after a few moments.

"What do you think that whole thing was about, when Bill said they heard someone at the ministry talking about Dumbledore?"

Fred and George sat up. "They may think we didn't notice, but they were definitely hiding something. It's obvious that Bill really did hear someone talking, but what it is I have no idea," Fred cut in, although he knew that Harry's question was probably aimed towards Ron. Ron turned over to face their beds.

"We know what they were trying to hide. Me and Harry overheard dad and Charlie talking while you guys were outside. They said some bloke mentioned that Lucius is going on trial soon for something that has to do with Dumbledore."

The room fell silent once more, each of the boys deep in thought. George finally spoke up. "Maybe Dumbledore had to be sure that he could attend the trial. Maybe the ministry said he couldn't go because he had to take care of things at Hogwarts."

"But that doesn't make any sense," Harry objected. "Then they would just say that he shouldn't go when he's ill. Knowing them, they'd make up some bloody story about how it was too much stress for him to be in the courtroom or something."

As each of the boys struggled to fight the sleep muddling their minds, silence took its final hold upon the room's sleepy occupants. Struggling to hold back a yawn, Ron made a final observation.

"Whatever it is, I sure hope they know what they're doing."

The statement fell on deaf ears, however, because the other boys had already fallen asleep.

Just before he drifted off to sleep himself, Ron remembered that they'd never written Hermione back. 'Oh well, we'll just have to write her back in the morning,' he thought. And with that thought, sleep overtook him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hand of Faith**

Disclaimer: Do you think I'd have time to be writing this if I owned Harry Potter, what with all of you fans waiting on the seventh book? I thought not.

**Unusual**

Harry awoke to bits and pieces of Ron's very colorful language. Wondering why nothing he was hearing seemed to be making any sense, Harry moved to sit up and ask Ron what was going on. Suddenly, two things hit him at once. First, he realized that his head was currently under the largest pile of clothes known to man, and second, he remembered that this was the morning that they would be catching the train back to Hogwarts. The clothes drowned out some of Ron's angry ranting as his voice relocated from right next to Harry's bed to the hallway just outside the door.

Wow, time sure flew when you were down to two extra weeks of vacation.

As he sat up to look at the magically run alarm clock that sat upon the dresser beside the bed, several more thoughts joined the ones already within Harry's head. One in particular fought to get through.

'There is no doubt about it; we are definitely going to be late.'

As Harry scrambled to escape the massive pile of Ron's clothes surrounding him, the clock changed to read 10:27.

---------------

The antique shelves of the school library towered well above the four-person tables scattered here and there throughout its massive grandeur. Thousands of books lined each, every one of the books unique in its contents and style. If you were someone, like Hermione, who enjoyed the ancient smell of tomes left unopened for what could very possibly be decades, libraries like this were paradise.

As it happened, Hermione was currently enjoying it to the fullest. She breathed deeply, taking in the dusty smell of long abandoned books, their pages brittle and yellow. Sighing in delight, she leaned back from her table, taking her pause from the open book upon it. She snuggled deeper into her blankets, taking comfort in the fact that she was once again in her rightful home: the library. Wait…blankets? She frowned, realizing that something was amiss, but not quite being able to place it. Her mind seemed groggy, almost as if she were trying to remember an elusive dream. _Dream!_ Her mind flared to life, coming to full attention.

Many holes in the image before her presented themselves, each seeming more important than the next. Where was everyone? Even if she were the only student in the library, (which, she would admit, did happen on occasion), surely Madame Pince wouldn't have left her alone. And since when were there blankets in the library? She frowned, realizing where this train of thought ended. She was dreaming. Or at least she had been.

'Ah, well,' she thought with a blatant sigh, 'I should have known. It's not even the end of summer yet.' Then she realized with a start. It _was_ the end of summer! Today's would be the last morning she would spend breakfasting with her parents for a good long while. 'I should get ready so I can enjoy it,' she thought. Throwing off the covers, she headed towards her dresser. She had set out an outfit the night before so she wouldn't have to dig through her trunk for clothes to wear in the morning. Donning them quickly, she headed towards the bathroom to brush her teeth and manage her hair. When she was satisfied that she looked presentable, she headed downstairs to breakfast.

"Good morning, Hermione, dear," her mother called jovially from the stove as Hermione walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning, mum," she replied, kissing her mother affectionately on the cheek. "Where's dad?"

"Oh, he went out to get the paper. You know how he is," her mother replied. "Would you give me a hand with breakfast? I'm almost done, but I can't very well watch the bacon while scrambling the eggs."

"Sure," Hermione took her place watching the bacon.

"Oh you're such a darling, Hermione, dear. I don't know what I'll do without you over the school year. And just when I started getting used to having you around the house again, too," her mother praised, bustling back and forth between the table and the stove. She scraped the eggs into a bowl, placing them in the center of the table.

"Well, look who's finally awake," her father teased as he walked through the door, although it was barely 9 o'clock. It was a running joke between the three of them that Hermione usually woke up so "late" compared to her parents.

"Ha ha, dad," Hermione stuck her tongue out playfully, bringing the bacon to the table and taking her own seat. When they were all seated at the table and eating quietly, Hermione allowed her thoughts to drift to what would be happening later that day. 'I'll be seeing Ron and Harry for the first time since the beginning of the summer,' she thought. 'I'll be at Hogwarts again.' Taking a large bite of her mother's scrambled eggs, Hermione frowned at the thought of living without them for an entire school year.

"Something wrong with the eggs, dear?" her mother startled her out of her thoughts, noticing her frown.

"Oh, no," Hermione quickly denied. "Your cooking's perfect, as always," she complimented. "I was just wondering how I would last the school year without them."

"Oh, stop!" her mother replied. "You know how I can't stand it when you compliment me. It makes my head too big," she laughed.

"No, seriously!" Hermione interjected. "One bite of these and Ron or Harry would never leave our house! Especially Ron, with that mouth of his."

"Well, they won't be over any time soon," her mother said. "It's almost time for another year at Hogwarts to begin. You'd better get your trunk, dear, so we can head to the train station. It's a quarter after ten."

---------------

Parting truly was such sweet sorrow. Harry was glad that his long wait, extended because of Dumbledore's illness, was over, and that he would be returning to Hogwarts shortly. His journey would begin in five minutes. Their trunks were packed and standing beside them, ready to be stacked above them in the train's compartments once more. All that remained was the hardest part of any journey: saying goodbye.

"Oh, you boys. Be good, you hear? Or I'll take the mickey out of you when you come home for Christmas," Mrs. Weasley threatened, giving her sons and daughter a fierce hug, then taking Harry in for one as well.

"We will, Mrs. Weasley," Harry promised, struggling to breathe within her hold.

"Mum, let go of him before he suffocates!" Ron told his mother, pulling Harry back from her grasp.

"Yeah, mum, you wouldn't want to do that! Poor Ginny here would be lost without Harry by her side," George laughed, giving a lovesick swoon. "Oh, what shall I do without my darling Harry?" he mocked.

"Don't worry, Ginny, we'll take care of you!" Fred told her, placing his hands over his heart and falling to his knees before his sister. "We'll make sure to find you someone proper to take care of you. How about Malfoy? He seems like a good bloke," he laughed heartily.

"Enough!" Harry interrupted. Ginny looked close to tears. "Can't you two go one minute without bothering her?" he asked in a pained voice. He turned to comfort Ginny, but she had already gotten on the train. "Now look what you've done. You'd better watch your backs on the train. Her batbogey hex can catch you unawares." Mrs. Weasley frowned.

"Well, you had better get on the train before it leaves without you," she urged.

With a final round of goodbyes, the four of them clambered onto the train as the final warning whistle blew. The train began moving and they started down the aisle, searching for a compartment. A little ways along, they slid open the door of a compartment to find it occupied by Ginny and Hermione.

"It's about time you boys came along," Hermione chastised, a smile coloring her voice. "Merlin knows I haven't seen you in ages!" As Ginny spotted who Hermione was talking to, she blushed, getting up to leave the compartment.

"Well, if someone hadn't gone to that convention, we wouldn't have had this problem," Ron commented, holding out his arm to stop Ginny from leaving. "Now hold on just one minute," he added, turning to Ginny. "Fred and George aren't with us; it's just me and Harry. We dropped them off with Lee Jordan and the rest of their crew a few compartments down. We promise not to bother you because, personally, I don't right prefer to have one of your batbogey curses headed my way any time soon." Ginny let out a small giggle at the thought. "Isn't that right, Harry?" Ron asked, turning to his friend.

"Mhmm," Harry nodded in agreement.

Ron pulled Ginny back to her seat and sat next to her. "Are you gonna join us, Harry?"

"Actually, Ron," Hermione cut in. "We've got to head to the prefects' carriage. They're assigning patrols and partners for our rounds."

"Well, I'll keep Ginny company," Harry told them, watching as Ron grudgingly stood up from his newly-warmed seat. Harry took Ron's place next to Ginny. With a last glance at the two of them, and a promise to be back shortly, Ron and Hermione left the compartment.

"Well, I thought they'd never leave," Harry sighed, letting all composure drop from his features. He reached over, grasping Ginny's hand gently. "Gin, you've really got to stop losing it every time Fred and George have their fun. You're just adding more heat to the fire, love."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I don't exactly appreciate those two taking the mickey out of me every time I'm within two feet of you," Ginny shot back, seeming frustrated.

"Whoa, whoa," Harry tried to calm her, gently pulling her from the seat and onto his lap. "I meant no harm, beautiful; I'm just saying that you're only causing more trouble by letting them get to you." He held her to him, lowering his head to her hair and breathing in her scent of strawberries. "You letting them affect you is like me going off to slit my wrists every time Malfoy insults me. It accomplishes nothing, only gives them the pleasure of knowing that they bothered you."

"Oh, don't even talk about such an awful thing," Ginny protested, burying her head in his chest. "Fred and George were right. I couldn't stand it if something were to happen to you." Her voice trembled.

"Don't worry about things like that, love," Harry soothed her, combing his fingers through her fiery curls. "There isn't even a remote chance they'd ever happen, so don't worry your pretty little head," he told her, lifting her chin with his finger. He bent down to claim her lips. Ginny returned the kiss with fervor, moaning as his tongue stroked hers, trembling in his arms. Harry pulled back reluctantly.

"Anyone could just happen in on us, beautiful," he protested, saying the words to convince her as well as himself.

"I don't care, Harry," Ginny protested, dragging his head back down so that she could ravage his mouth once more. He could taste her hunger and need within their kiss. Pulling back for air, she added, "It's been too long since we've been able to have any time together. What with the fear of my brothers finding us, we never get a moment of peace." Harry felt something stir within him at the way that she was panting for breath from his kisses. Merlin, he loved her so damn much. So much that he couldn't bear it if she fought with her brothers over him. He held her face between his hands, stroking her cheek lovingly.

"I understand, love, but if we get caught, you'll regret it. As much as you think it's worth your brothers' wrath, imagine what will happen if they find out. Do you think they'll just let us continue to see each other?" he asked. He saw fiery determination flare in her eyes at his words, but then something else replaced it. Love. And understanding. Knowing that she wouldn't fight him, he continued. "They could come back at any moment. Why don't we stay on the safe side and save this for another, much safer time?"

Ginny adamantly studied her fingernails, her jaw clenched. She knew that Harry was right. It was pretty stupid to go risking everything in the middle of the Hogwarts train. Still, she racked her mind for some way to argue, knowing it was futile. She wasn't one to give in easily. Giving a small sigh, she hesitantly looked up to meet his eyes. All they held was love and protection. Love and protection for_ her_. Ginny felt her heart swell under his gaze. She knew that he would never consciously do anything to harm her. With one last breathtaking kiss, she signaled to Harry that he had won her over.

It was unfortunate that Hermione chose that moment to slam open the compartment door.

---------------

Hermione blinked at the scene before her. Harry and Ginny were currently diligently occupied with trying to get as much of a taste of each other as possible, completely unaware that they had an audience. Hermione watched in silent envy before realizing that she'd better put a stop to their fun. Clearing her throat in annoyance, she crossed her arms and stared at the couple as they pulled apart at her interruption.

"Oh, Merlin, get a room you two!" She whispered loudly, turning to look behind her at Ron, who followed a little ways behind her. "You'd better hurry. Ron's right behind me," she snapped, sliding the compartment door closed before taking a seat opposite them. The startled Harry and Ginny hastened to move away from each other, guilt evident on their faces.

"What's got you so angry, Hermione?" Harry asked as he tried not to look too guilty. Hermione merely sent him a glare.

Ginny scrambled from Harry's lap, hastily fixing her hair. She grabbed a magazine from behind her and opened it, just as Ron slid open the compartment door.

"Why'd you shut the door, Hermione?" he asked in a confused voice. "You knew I was right behind you." When several seconds passed without an answer from her, he turned to Harry and Ginny. "She's been in a right foul mood ever since she found out that she has to do her rounds with Malfoy," he explained.

"I'm just lucky he wasn't there to gloat about it," Hermione glowered from her corner.

"Yeah, that was a lucky coincidence, huh?" Ron agreed hastily. He didn't like dealing with Ginny or Hermione when they were angry. It was too much to handle. He looked to Harry and Ginny for help.

"Malfoy?" Ginny asked in disbelief. "Isn't Dumbledore the one who assigns the prefect partners? He can't be serious!"

"Angelina and Marcus were going on about how the teachers are promoting house unity this year," Ron replied, looking towards where Hermione sat. "But honestly! Hermione and _Malfoy_! That's just asking for trouble!"

Harry snorted. "Yeah. You don't have to tell _me_ twice." He turned towards Hermione. "Look, Hermione. It can't be all that bad. I mean, sure, Malfoy's a giant pain in the ass, but if he does try anything, he'll wish he'd never been born," he told her, looking at Ron and Ginny for confirmation.

"Yeah, Hermione," Ginny quickly joined in. "I'll hex him into oblivion if he lets even a single foul word slip from his mouth."

"There, now, Hermione. See? It can't get any better than that," Ron pleaded. "Can we please just enjoy the rest of our time in peace? I don't fathom we'll get _any_ peace this year when we have Malfoy to deal with."

"That never stopped us before," Harry commented, giving a small laugh, "and Malfoy's done some pretty bad things to us in the past."

"Yeah, but you never had to work with him," Hermione shot back, turning to face the three of them once more. "I don't see why I couldn't have gotten lucky and gotten paired with my boyfriend or something, like Hannah Abbott and Anthony Goldstein." She sighed, dropping her head into her hands. "Why, oh, why do I always get stuck with these situations?" she moaned in despair.

"Karma," Harry replied, nodding as if with understanding. He put on a fake wise face, adapting Trelawney's mysterious air. "The cosmic powers are speaking to me," he said. His fingers were at his temples, his face scrunched in concentration. "They say…they say…the message is faint…I can't understand it-" An impatient Ginny whacked him in the back of the head. "Wait! I see it! They tell me that this is the result of someone being an unrelenting bugger and forcing me and Ron to study so much for the O.W.L.'s last year!" Harry cried triumphantly, a huge grin plastered across his face. He narrowly missed Hermione's hand when she took aim at his arm. Ron and Ginny erupted into fits of giggles.

"Ha ha, very funny," Hermione complimented, her voice overflowing with sarcasm. "We should sign you up to replace that old bag. I noticed you're easily influenced when there's violence involved," she laughed, turning a rueful eye upon Ginny, who merely smirked.

"Well at least if Harry takes over we won't have to worry about failing," Ron mused. "We could just sick Ginny on him when he starts thinking about failing us," he chuckled. Ginny nodded, folding her arms across her chest.

"I'd like to see you try to get past me," she challenged, looking at Harry with a mischievous look in her eye.

"No, please, ma'am," Harry begged mockingly. "I promise to be good, just please don't hurt me!" he raised his hands in mock defeat. Ron and Hermione laughed at their antics.

"Come on, Ron. I guess we'd better begin our patrols in the aisles," Hermione urged, heading towards the compartment door. Ron stood up and followed her out. The two headed in opposite directions, Hermione heading towards the front and Ron going to meet his partner, Ernie Macmillan, near the back. As the door slid shut, Harry and Ginny found themselves alone together once more.

---------------

A smug faced Pansy strode into the compartment full of her fellow Slytherins, her arms laden with snacks from the food trolley.

"Did you get my beans?" Blaise asked from his seat by the window. Pansy tossed him several bags of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans before taking her seat across from him. "Thanks," he acknowledged, opening up one of the bags and popping a few into his mouth.

"Where's Draco?" Pansy asked, opening up her own treats. "I just saw the little mudblood bitch doing her rounds through the corridors. She was alone, though. He left her to do the dirty work all by herself, huh?"

"Hell if I know," Blaise replied. "As if he tells me anything more than he tells you," he added. "The git couldn't get any more private if he tried."

"No kidding," Millicent Bullstrode added, lusting after Pansy's treats. "He won't ever spill a word about what he's doing over summer break, either." Pansy noticed her gaze and scooted away from her along the seat.

"Well that doesn't matter, now, does it?" Blaise interrupted, reaching over to place his hand on Millicent's knee. "We had quite a good time ourselves, now didn't we?" he added with a dark-eyed smile. Millicent blushed, giving a slight nod.

"Well I figured you would know where he is since you're the only one who can get him to talk half the time," Pansy butted in, referring to their earlier conversation in an obvious haste to change the subject. "It's odd, though, for him to just go missing. He wasn't at the prefects' meeting either," she added thoughtfully. Blaise merely grunted and didn't move his gaze from Millicent, who squirmed under his heated look.

"Fine," Pansy relented, her insides giving a twist at the look Blaise was giving Millicent. "See if you get any from me for a good long while," she added, rising to leave the compartment. Half way to the door, she glared at him with a scowl on her face as he moved into her path. "Hey fuckwit," she threw Blaise's way, as he still wasn't looking at her. "If you don't move your ass and let me do my rounds, we'll both be sorry."

Blaise broke his focus upon Millicent and lookeddown at Pansy. His face was inches fromhers, a little too close for Pansy's comfort. When he spoke, she could feel his hot breath flow over her face. "Why would we both be sorry?" he asked. "You'd have more time to spare to devote to…other essential needs." He traced a finger along her jawline. "With me," he added with a knowing smirk. Pansy's insides clenched, sensing his proximity. She could feel her skin heating up.

"As if," she finally managed to get out, although they could both tell she wasn't so sure. "Go be with your stupid bint," she snarled, finally getting control of her emotions. She renewed her glare full force, thenturned on her heel and stalked out of the door.

"You've really done it this time," Theodore spoke up from the corner. "You really shouldn't mess with girls' emotions like that, mate," he said, looking at Blaise as if to reprimand him. Blaise wasn't looking so smug anymore. He looked pissed.

"Well she shouldn't be such an easy target," Blaise shot back. He was frustrated with himself for screwing things up again. Why must he always find a way to piss her off? He didn't mean to be such a prick to her half the time; it just happened. If she'd just stop allowing her emotions to show through so damn easily, then he wouldn't be so tempted to throw them at her. It really wasn't worth the trouble he went through sweetening her up again, anyways.

Millicent pouted from the corner, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Well she didn't have to go and use language like that," she said, sounding offended.

Theo just shook his head sadly. "One of these days..," he muttered. Blaise didn't hear the rest, however, as he had already left the compartment, slamming the door closed behind him.

---------------

Hermione paced the halls alone, using the time to herself to gather her thoughts. 'I really need to get a grip on myself,' she thought glumly. Although she was frantically trying to deny it, shoving the despised thoughts into the back of her mind, she knew that jealousy was rearing its ugly head once again.

Hermione prided herself on being book smart and logical. If ever there was a problem, Hermione could solve it. Well, a school problem that is. Lately, though, seeing as she was, like it or not, a hormonal teenager, she'd started noticing things that had never bothered her before. Things like couples holding hands on the sidewalks when she went walking with her parents; romantic picnics on the beach while she and her cousins were sunbathing; tender kisses in the moonlight when she was star gazing from the porch swing. Now, she'd never been the type to get jealous, but who wouldn't want those things to happen to them?

She sighed, turning on her heel to pace back up the corridor that she'd reached the end of. Even though she would rather die than admit it, she felt rather lonely when witnessing little moments like that. And while she was adamantly trying to blame it on those teenage hormones that she was oh so fond of, her mind couldn't argue against the fact that she hadn't even had her first kiss yet. Wasn't that something to be upset about since she had turned seventeen only a few short weeks ago? And here she'd thought she had escaped all of that mush when she'd boarded the train to Hogwarts, but then she'd walked in on Harry and Ginny. Hermione flinched as her heart gave a painful lurch at the memory of Harry and Ginny wrapped in a kiss, blissfully unaware of her presence. Although she'd known about their relationship for a while now, it didn't make it hurt any less to see them before her in all their loving glory. Ron, of course, had no clue about Harry and Ginny's feeling for each other, and when Hermione had accidentally stumbled in upon them at the end of the past year right before summer break, she'd agreed to keep their secret until they figured out a way to tell him without it ending in bloodshed. Being reminded of their relationship in that embarrassing manner certainly had been surprising, though. She inwardly flinched as the image rose unbidden once again. What was she to do?

Well, she'd just have to get over it, wouldn't she? There was no sense in being all put out over something she couldn't control, so why stress her nerves? She had too many things to worry about this year without the added agonizing over her love life, or lack thereof. She just had to deal with whatever life dealt her. Hogwarts was a mine field of snoggingcouplesand lusty boys. She couldn't go getting upset every time she ran into something like that. She was a prefect, after all. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, temporarily erasing the image from her mind. What use was it to bother herself with thoughts and images that would cause more problems than they would solve? She nervously bit her lip. _Merlin,_ she needed a hobby.

Wait a moment.

Hermione was jerked from her thoughts as she heard the sound of a scream. She rolled her eyes. Well, if that wasn't a sign of misconduct, she didn't know what was. Straightening her badge, she headed off to investigate.

---------------

Ooh, that damn boy would learn his lesson some day.

Pansy had been stalking up and down the aisles, venting her anger upon unsuspecting first years and unaware trouble makers. She was pissed. That damn Blaise Zambini knew just the right buttons to push to make her just want to mess up his pretty little face. He'd just keep pushing and pushing until she snapped. He never knew when to quit.

She huffed in frustration, turning around and going back the way she'd come. Her partner, Padma Patil, gave her a sideways glance, but kept walking alongside her.

After Pansy aimed a particularly nasty reprimand towards one of the younger students, Padma suggested that she make a quick visit to the bathroom to freshen up and perhaps calm down a bit. Rearing back to snap at the Ravenclaw girl, Pansy stopped herself short. She did need to cool herself off, so why not take Padma's suggestion to heart? She nodded her head briskly towards Padma, who flinched, expecting an insult. She then headed off towards the loos.

Ugh, that Blaise would pay for making her look foolish. No one crossed Pansy Parkinson and got away unscathed!

---------------

Ron and Ernie walked along the hallway, chatting about the mysteries of girls. Ernie had been more than understanding when Ron had explained Hermione's attitude about working with Malfoy, having been there during her assignment, and he and Ron were now contemplating what various other girls would have done in Hermione's position.

"Well, Lavendar Brown probably wouldn't have minded, since she's been mooning over his "sexy" body for ages," Ron said, feeling like he would throw up for even imagining that such a thing could exist for Malfoy. "And the same probably goes for Parvati, too. I just don't understand what they're so keen about. It's _Malfoy_! There are so many things wrong with that situation that I don't even _know _where to begin!"

"I agree," Ernie replied. "And that Pansy Parkinson," he shuddered, "she's another matter entirely. What could she possibly be thinking?"

"I don't know," Ron said, then jokingly added, "You should ask her."

"Oh, yeah, I could just see it now," Ernie laughed, envisioning himself asking her the question. "Pansy, if you don't mind, I'd like to know what it is that you find so bloody fascinating about Malfoy, because Ron Weasley and I think you're mental, you see, and we're wondering if maybe we're right." Ron laughed at his words.

"Well, after the mental bit, you might want to duck behind something before you continue."

"Why?" Ernie asked, puzzled. He really didn't see Pansy as much of a fighter. He glanced to the side to find Ron staring down the aisle. Ernie smirked at the look on Ron's face. He figured that chances were good that he wouldn't be getting an answer to his question, because he already knew what – or, rather, who – Ron was looking at. A quick look down the aisle confirmed his thoughts. Mandy Brocklehurst was currently headed their way.

The pretty Ravenclaw girl was walking among a group of friends, probably headed to the loo. She laughed at something one of the other girls said, her sleek, shoulder length chestnut hair stirred by her movements. Natural streaks of lighter auburns and caramel seemed to shimmer in the shafts of sunlight flowing through the different compartment doors. Her stormy grey-blue eyes shone with happiness. There was no doubt that she was excited to be on her way to Hogwarts once more.

Ron stood gaping from the middle of the aisle, oblivious to the fact that the group washeaded intheir direction, his mind only registering that Mandy was currently ten feet away from him. The group reached Ron and Ernie's spot in the aisle, slowing down because Ron was standing in their way.

"Hullo, Ron," Mandy greeted him, giving him a cheerful smile. Although smiling confidently, she couldn't seem to meet his eyes. Ron didn't reply, though, just stood and stared, giving her an inhumanly eeriesmile. Ernie noticed his dazed look, giving him a kick in the shin to sort him back to rights. Giving a yelp, Ron snapped back to reality just in time to move out of the middle of the aisle as the group of girls walked past.

"You could have said something back, you know, like 'Beautiful day, isn't it?' or 'You look nice today, Mandy,'" Ernie told him. Ron gave him a sheepish look.

"I think I've seen her a total of four times since the Yule Ball, and it never gets any easier," he said morosely. He pulled at his hair in frustration. "Why do I have to be such a bloody idiot when it comes to girls? I'm like a gaping fish!" he exclaimed. Several of the doors throughout the aisle slid open, and curious heads peeked out to find the source of the yelling. Ernie hastily grabbed Ron's shoulder and turned him around, steering him the other way.

"Oh, come on, mate, I was only joking," he said, turning to make sure that the doors were safely shut again. "Nobody's perfect. Besides, at least she knows you exist. You have to think optimistically about these things." Ron merely nodded as they continued down the aisle. As they reached the bathrooms, and the place where they would turn around and go back up the aisle, they noticed someone exiting the door.

"Oy, look, Ernie, Pansy's right up there," Ron whispered to Ernie, cheering up again. "You should go and ask her that question you were wondering about."

"No way in hell," Ernie stated firmly, crossing his arms. "I don't even like thinking about Malfoy, let alone talking about him more than I have to." Ron laughed, opening his mouth to reply, but before he could say a word, they both heard a surprised squeal. They turned towards where Pansy had been not two seconds before, only to find the area empty.

"Where did she go?" Ron asked. Ernie just shrugged in confusion. The bathroom door stood ajar, and a quick peek inside deemed it empty. Neither one of them had heard any of the compartment doors slide open and closed.

Pansy Parkinson was gone.

---------------

Hermione hurried to find the source of the scream, worried that some of the upper classmen were picking on the first years. If she had to hazard a guess, she'd guess that the Slytherins had something to do with it. Yanking back the material separating her from the next train carriage, she hustled through, only to find Ron and Ernie standing there. No one else was around.

"Did you guys hear that?" she quickly asked, taking a business-like tone with the two boys. Ron nodded and began to speak, but Ernie beat him to it.

"It was Pansy," he began. "She was just coming out of the restrooms and me and Ron were talking, and we heard a scream, but then when we looked up she was just…gone!" Hermione gave him a skeptical look, turning to Ron. Seeing nothing but agreement on Ron's face, she looked between the two of them, exasperated.

"Oh, honestly!" she said, putting her hands on her hips and looking back and forth between the two of them. "People don't just up and disappear out of the blue! She has to be somewhere. Did you check the bathroom?" Ron and Ernie nodded. "Are you sure that she didn't go into a compartment?" They looked at each other, then turned back to look at her. "Well?" she asked again.

"Well, we didn't hear any of the carriage doors open and close," Ernie said.

"And she wasn't anywhere in the corridor," Ron added.

"Merlin, you two," Hermione said. "You have absolutely no proof that she didn't just walk into one of those carriages."

"So go and check!" Ron argued. "I swear we didn't hear a single thing besides that scream." Ernie perked up at his words.

"We can't just start up a search party for Pansy Parkinson without causing some suspicion," Hemione told him, crossing her arms. "We Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs aren't exactly bezzy mates with her and the rest of the Slytherins." Ron and Ernie just looked at her.

"How would you explain the scream, then?" Ernie threw in. "Why would she just be walking around screaming for no reason?"

"She could have stepped on something or seen a bug," Hermione said. "It wouldn't surprise me to find out that Pansy's a ninny." Ron and Ernie contemplated this, then their faces fell in defeat.

"Maybe you're right, Hermione," Ron agreed. "Although something seems off to me," he added defensively.

"Well you'll just have to keep an eye out for her, then," Hermione said. "We're almost to the school. We have maybe twenty minutes left on the train. If you don't see her in the crowd getting off of the Hogwarts Express, come and tell me and maybe we'll bring it to Dumbledore or something."

Ron and Ernie nodded in acquiescence and they parted ways to finish their rounds, Ron and Ernie keeping a sharp eye out for Pansy.

"I just thought of something," Ron said to Ernie as they strolled down the aisle.

"What?" Ernie asked.

"I never thought that I'd see the day when a Gryffindor and a Hufflepuff willingly went looking for a Slytherin."

"Well, I guess there really _is_ a first time for everything," Ernie replied, laughing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hand of Faith**

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is the genius, not me.

**Explanations**

Darkness cloaked a well-furnished room among many well-furnished rooms within a well-furnished mansion. Silence reigned throughout the room and curtains blocked the sunny exterior from trickling through the windows to bathe the room in cheer once more. A lonely spider loomed in the corner of the ceiling, spinning its silver web to bind an unfortunate victim.

A sudden thud broke the silence.

A very confused Pansy Parkinson lay in the middle of the floor. Rubbing her elbow where she had hit it in her fall, she sat up and glanced around the room. Before she could get a good look at her surroundings, however, Blaise Zambini appeared before her. His sudden appearance caught her off-guard, startling her to her feet. Pansy glared at him, the urge to cause him great pain flaring to life within her. As if he sensed her intent, Blaise reached out and grabbed her arms in a firm grip.

"Pansy, please, I didn't bring you here to argue," Blaise said softly, searching her eyes for some sign of acquiescence. Pansy didn't have to ask where 'here' was. She'd recognize Blaise's room any day. Stalling for time, she glared around the room – a pointless act as nothing new presented itself from the décor around her. She calculated her options, reluctantly giving in to the realization that none of them involved hexing Blaise into oblivion. She remembered in dismay that she'd left her wand back in the Slytherin compartment.

Well, she knew for a fact that Blaise had a ward around his room preventing apparition in or out without his permission, which_ she_ certainly didn't have. She also knew that the train would reach the school within half an hour. Even if no one noticed that they were missing - which was a very good possibility – once the train reached the school, they'd have no way in. It was well known that nobody could apparate within the Hogwarts grounds. Sadly, it looked like Blaise was her only ticket out of here; she couldn't get back to the train without him. Fighting him would take too long, and without a wand she couldn't do much damage anyway. She noted that Blaise looked apprehensive, as if he feared what was going through her head. She resignedly cocked an ear to let him know she was listening. Blaise lost no time in beginning, relaxing his grip on her arms.

"I know I really pissed you off earlier," he began in earnest. Pansy reached back and slapped him across the face_. Hard_. Blaise, who had merely closed his eyes when he'd realized her intention, slowly reached a hand up to rub his sore red cheek. "I guess I deserved that.."

"Damn right you deserved that _and_ much more! You're an evil bastard that doesn't know _when_ to quit!" Pansy shot back, giving voice to her anger. "I don't even know why anyone in the bloody female population would have _any_ desire to be with you! If there is any higher power at all, you'll be alone for the rest of your life so you can understand at least_ half_ of the pain you put people through, using girls and guys alike as sluts and whores." Upon hearing her words, Blaise suddenly stiffened, his face reddening to match his cheek, the somber look on his face changing to display the trademark Slytherin scowl. His fists clenched in anger, and it suddenly became apparent to Pansy just how much taller than her he was. Just as she was beginning to regret her hasty retort, Blaise seemed to deflate before her. His face seemed to age by years, lines creasing the skin around his eyes and mouth. Pansy suspected that they weren't exactly laugh lines. He visibly slumped, letting out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding in a mournful sigh

"I guess I deserved that, too…"

Pansy felt a swell of unknown emotion rise in her heart, but then clamped it back down again. She recognized it to be guilt. She yearned to kiss away the lines of wear on his face and smooth away the bags from under his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat as she imagined herself within his arms, hearing him whisper sweet nothings into her ear. Then she remembered the scene from earlier today, the way he'd talked to her in the Slytherin compartment. He thought of her as a common whore, and he held no feelings for her besides lust for her body. Her fantasies and daydreams would never become reality. Hardening her resolve, she told him in an icy voice, "You were saying?"

One look at Pansy told him that she was preparing to take his words with a grain of salt. How could he possibly get her to believe what he was about to say? 'I saw this going a bit differently in my mind,' he thought morosely. How in the bloody hell had she known he was bisexual! Well that one had come as a shock.. He argued with himself. 'Well you honestly didn't expect her to fall passionately into your arms and declare her love, did you, you hopeless git?' Of course, he hadn't, but that hadn't stopped him from hoping. Girding himself, he took a deep breath and continued, closing his eyes to pretend she wasn't there.

"I know I hurt you and I-" he clamped his mouth shut before he could utter the words. He was painfully aware of her eyes upon him, whether his eyes were closed or not. He took a steeling breath, trying to force his mouth to open. If he didn't say it now, she'd just go on assuming he'd brought her here for sex or something! Well…he sort of had hoped for a little something before this was over – hey, he wasn't a Slytherin for nothing! – but that wasn't all he'd wanted. He'd wanted – no,_ needed _– a chance to explain himself. He'd wanted to tell her how he felt about her above all others. He'd wanted to tell her just how beautiful she was, and that she didn't need all of that makeup to attract guys' attention. So many things were fighting to get out of his mouth, but it looked like the only thing he'd be saying was an apology for taking her from the train without her permission. This was hopeless.

Sighing in resignation, he placed a hand over his eyes, dragging it down his face and opening his eyes. Pansy was staring at him impatiently, her arms crossed over her chest. "Here," he said, holding out a hand. "I'll take you back to the train." Pansy blinked in confusion, dropping her arms. Her mouth opened in an 'O' of surprise. He was offering to take her back? He couldn't be…but what else could he possibly want her hand for? She looked at his face, searching his eyes for any hint of a hidden motive. All she found was resignation, and maybe even a hint of sadness. Why would he be sad? Because his favorite whore was mad at him? Somehow she doubted that was the case. She tentatively reached a hand out to grasp his, but then dropped it to her side before she touched his palm. She needed answers.

"What do you want, Blaise?" she asked quietly, moving her eyes to the floor. She shivered, bringing her arms up to hug herself. Blaise's immediate impulse was to take off his robe, draping it over her shoulders and looking at her in concern. She looked up at him warily, but didn't shrug his robe from her shoulders, holding his gaze and waiting for his answer.

Blaise groaned at the vulnerable look on her face, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close, pressing his lips to hers. His tongue snaked into her mouth, searching for hers. Pansy was startled, bringing her hands up to his chest, intending to push him away. Instead, she found herself trapped within his eyes as he stared down at her in lust, heat and passion consuming the both of them. She closed her eyes, giving in as her tongue battled his for dominance. Her palms against his chest, she could feel his heart beating rapidly.

Blaise kissed her with a hungry ferocity. She tasted faintly of strawberry lip gloss, and he felt his loins twitch at the image of a fiery red strawberry gliding between those tantalizingly sweet lips and into that moist and tender mouth. He brought his hands to her hair, pulling the pony tail loose and running his fingers through the dark locks, groaning as he deepened their kiss even more. He pulled away from her intoxicating lips, breathing hard and fast. "You. I want you." He leaned down to plunder her mouth once more, holding her tight and reveling in how she molded with his body.

Pansy didn't know what to do. Here she was in paradise, with Blaise's arms wrapped around her. He was kissing her like he couldn't get enough of her and clutching her like he was afraid she would run from him. She could hardly believe that all of this was happening. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, the strongest being a lust that told her to keep kissing Blaise, and to hell with its close second, rationality. And he was telling her he loved her – wait – _wanted_ her. Her mind latched onto these words, trying to think while fighting against the passion and heat that were slowly clouding her brain. He wanted her. _Wanted. _Not loved. Wanted. There was a huge difference. He would never love her. He just wanted her body, not her personality and heart.

Clarity making way, Pansy began to struggle against Blaise's fevered hold, an unbearable pain shooting through her as if a knife were lodged through her heart. She didn't like the way her thoughts were turning at all, yet they insisted on reminding her that she was only being used as a play thing, something to be tossed away whenever Blaise got bored of her.

Blaise's thoughts were otherwise occupied. His mind had recently brought attention to the fact that they were in a bedroom of a most-likely-deserted house. He knew his father wouldn't be home considering that he and his Death Eater associates were normally off doing some bloody thing for the Dark Lord. His mother, on the other hand, could possibly be home. He wasn't worried, though, because her room was on the main floor and they were currently in his bedroom on the third floor. What reason could she possibly have to want to come all the way up here? Just as he'd made up his mind that he'd be shagging Pansy within the next five minutes and to hell with who walked in, she began struggling against him. His thoughts were abruptly disrupted as he loosened his grip on her arms. He noticed the faint, hand-shaped red marks on them. He winced, feeling guilty. Those would most likely bruise later.

He dropped that train of thought when he saw the look on Pansy's face. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her. She was looking up at him, her eyes shining in passion from their kiss. Her face was red and her chest was heaving. That wasn't what held his gaze, though. What he couldn't explain was why she looked as if she were about to cry. His question was answered soon enough, however.

"Why do you keep doing this to me!" Pansy whispered in indignation. "One bloody second you're screaming at me and making me feel like the lowest common whore in the country, and then the next minute you're kissing me senseless! You can't _fucking_ do that!" she screeched in distress, her voice rising with every word. She clenched her hair in frustration, stalking over to the nearby dresser and swiping it clean in her anger. Toiletry items and pictures smashed against the wall, exploding and littering the carpet with shards of glass and empty metal frames, the pictures beneath covered in tiny glass pieces. Blaise flinched, moving to grab hold of her arms before she could do any more damage, but she backed away as he approached, choking back a sob.

"Is this some bloody _game_ for you! Watch the bloody stupid bint, Pansy Parkinson, let her heart get ripped out and trampled on while you laugh, knowing that you're the cause?" She turned to the nightstand next to his bed, her eyes falling upon the lamp sitting atop it, the glass shade giving off a faint glimmer in the gloomy darkness of the room. Blaise watched her eyes light upon it, his mind taking quick action. He started towards her and she rushed at the night stand, knowing that he was going to try to stop her. He jumped the corner of the bed, landing behind her as she whipped out her hand in a fury, aiming at the lamp. Blaise was faster, though, and he grabbed her around the waist, bringing them both to the ground, Blaise landing on top of her. The lamp rattled dangerously on the dresser from the force of their impact.

"Let go of me!" Pansy screamed as he grabbed her wrists, trying to keep her from hitting him without squeezing her thin wrists hard enough to hurt her. She struggled and twisted against him, trying to writhe her way free from underneath him. When she realized that she couldn't get her wrists free, she curled her legs up and tried to kick at him, but she couldn't move them up more than a few inches because of his weight upon her. "Let go of me _right_ now!" she cried, panic taking hold of her. She was in a very compromising position at the moment. She stopped struggling, trying to lure him into a false sense of security. What was he going to do to her? "I want to go back to the train," she said, trying to make her voice sound stern and demanding, while inside her heart hammered furiously. What could she possibly do to fight him off if he decided to try anything? Nothing. She was at his mercy. She looked up at him, his face masked and unreadable as he looked back down at her.

Blaise watched her in confusion, keeping his face carefully blank. Here he was merely trying to protect himself and his room from befalling further injury, and yet she was screaming and carrying on like he was some sort of murderer! What in bloody hell had he done? He knew it wasn't kissing her, because he had been able to tell she'd liked it just as much as he had. What else could it have been? He examined her face closely again, noting her red cheeks and tousled hair from their fall. Damn she was sexy when she was mad.

Pansy felt a tear slip down her face as they lay there looking at each other. Blaise's eyes widened in surprise at the drop of moisture, and he transferred both of her wrists to one of his hands to wipe away the tear with his finger. "What's wrong?" he asked, searching her face. Pansy shook her head, turning her head to the side to avoid his piercing eyes. He wouldn't convince her with his kind words and false empathy.

Blaise laid his hand on her cheek, but Pansy shook her head again, squirming away from his hand. This hurt him more than her earlier slap in the face. Why was she avoiding his touch? "What's wrong?" he asked again, more forcefully this time, and Pansy could have sworn she heard a touch of worry slip into his voice. He stared at her, but she lay silent, staring seemingly undiscerning off to the side. He shook her, trying to make her speak. She flinched at his sudden movement. Looking at her in concern, he tried to pull her up into a sitting position, but Pansy struggled against his pull. Blaise quickly released her wrists when he realized that he was terrifying her. He sat up, grabbing the corner of the nightstand to hoist himself back off of her still form. She didn't move besides to gingerly rub her sore red wrists. "Pansy…" Blaise whined, wanting desperately to gain some reaction from her.

"You didn't answer my questions," she finally whispered after a long moment of silence, so quiet that he had to bend close to hear her She turned to look up at him with glimmering hazel green eyes that threatened to spill over with tears. "Obviously you went through a lot of trouble to get me here, so what do you want? A good lay? Sorry, we're running out of time, and I don't much feel like lying on my back for you right now, anyway-"

"Pansy, it's not like that, and you know it," Blaise cut her off, searching her eyes for some sign of recognizable understanding. "I care about you, and-"

"Oh, you '_care'_ about me, now, do you?" Pansy snapped at him before he could finish, her voice low with anger. "Is that what they're calling it these days? 'Hey, Pans, could you do me a favor and give me a good romp before I have to go to Transfigurations? I care about you and all, so I figured I'd come to you first-'"

"Stop it!" Blaise yelled, silencing Pansy, who had jumped at his exclamation. He was breathing hard, and his face was stony, his eyes drilling holes through her. "I have _never_ treated you that way," he said stonily, his voice echoing in the empty room. Pansy stared at him mutely, her eyes wide, fearing that she had crossed the line, and knowing somehow that she had. She scooted back slowly, sitting up so her back pressed against the wall, her hands clenching the navy blue carpet.

He stood angrily, beginning to pace the bedroom. Pansy sat, quietly fuming, her eyes following him around the room. "You had your questions, and I'll answer them; but I want you to answer something for me first. Do you not have feelings for me? Am I just imagining that you actually wanted to have a relationship with me?" he asked. He went on without giving her time for an answer. "Or did you have feelings before, and then you just decided I'm not worth it?" he joked, though his voice was filled with something like regret and sorrow. He turned to her, but she just sat silently and stared with wide, fearful eyes. He turned back to pacing to escape her eyes like piercing daggers stabbing at his heart.

"Nevermind; don't answer. It probably won't be something I want to hear, anyways." He steeled himself and went on. "As for your questions.." He paused, stopping mid-stride in consideration. "I believe the first one was why I 'keep doing this to you'" he stated after a moment, making it clear he was quoting her earlier statement. "I'm not exactly sure what you think I'm doing, but if you're referring to our earlier arguments and the many similar arguments we've had throughout past years, I can't answer that because I honestly don't know that myself," he said softly, turning to meet her eyes. They were softened a bit, but the edge of fear was still there, though barely noticeable. "I don't know why I argue with you constantly when all I ever want is to kiss those beautiful lips every time you snap at me. You honestly have no idea how many times I've fantasized about taking you right here in this very bedroom, hearing you say my name as I love your sweet body with all I have to offer," he sighed.

"It's just that it's so hard knowing that you have so much that I yearn for, so much that I know you can be, and yet you waste it away with all of those worthless guys." He could feel himself getting angry. "You're worth more than that, Pansy," he snapped, turning to her, determination on his face. "You could be so much more, and yet you're not even _trying_!" She jumped as he stressed the word. She wasn't used to soft-spoken, light- and tender-hearted Blaise using this booming, demanding voice. It was a whole different side of him that she hadn't gotten used to, although he'd used it plenty tonight.

Pansy quivered at the thought of what might happen if he got any angrier, then looked up at his stony face. He glanced over at her movement, having seen it from the corner of his eye. What he found was shimmering hazel green eyes staring up at him, brimming with pain. His heart lurched for her. He suddenly felt guilty for doing this to her, for the pain he had caused. Well, hell, he hadn't exactly expected roses, but he hadn't realized just how much he would hurt her, either. The pain and anger inside of him built up, coming to a peak.

"Stop looking at me like that!" he yelled angrily, making her jump again at his ferocity. "I haven't done anything to hurt you, and I can't stand to see you look at me that way…" he stopped pacing, coming to stand before her. He felt his heart sink at the way she was looking up at him. Fear was more than evident on her face. Taking a deep breath to calm down, he tried to think rationally. He _had_ done something to hurt her. He'd practically just shoved her entire life in her face. Great. 'Way to screw things up again, Zambini. You're being a royal prick.' Sighing in regret at what he'd done, and wishing he could erase the past thirty minutes, he held out a hand. Why was it that he'd brought her here? Suddenly it didn't seem so important.

"Look, if I've done anything to hurt you, I'm sorry." Pansy's eyes widened, if possible, even more as he continued. "Obviously I've done nothing but offend you, and I wish I could just take it all back. But I can't. If I could take it back, I would, but as it is, I think it's better if I just bring you back. All I wanted here was to make a sincere apology for offending you on the train earlier, but obviously I'm just making a gigantic ass out of myself."

Without another word, he reached out and grabbed her hand, and Pansy's pulse quickened at the sudden touch. She closed her eyes to avoid his gaze, feeling heat emanating from his fingertips into hers. She suddenly felt a dizzying sensation, and then she heard the sound of excited voices muffled around her. Opening her eyes, she recognized the interior of the Hogwarts Express. Her head spun as she glanced around in surprise. She caught sight of the tail end of a robe flapping around the corner. Bringing her hand up to cover her mouth, she tried to hold back a sob as she released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

She'd just screwed up_ everything_.

---------------

Ron and Ernie paced the train corridors as the students emptied out, looking for a snatch of dark hair or a smug looking face. Luck, however, seemed to be against them, and they saw no such thing. The last student bounced down the steps and onto the platform below, and Ron and Ernie gloated. Giving each other unmistakably smug looks, the two boys set off to search the train for any stragglers, and then to report to Hermione that they hadn't seen Pansy. 'Saw a bug my ass,' Ron thought as he slid open compartment doors for a quick glance inside each. Then, finding no one, he turned to spot Ernie at the end of the corridor waiting for him. He started off down the corridor.

Ernie turned and walked with Ron when they met in the small corridor, making their way to the exit and jumping to the platform below. Searching the crowd for a head of bushy hair, they spotted her near the front of the train, looking for an empty carriage for the group of 2nd years behind her. Ron heard the booming voice of Hagrid calling the first years his way, and turned to smile at the giant before continuing his path towards Hermione.

Spotting the two boys coming her way, Hermione quickly found a carriage and hustled the 2nd years towards it before turning back to face Ron and Ernie. "I'm guessing you didn't find her from the smug looks on your faces," she said, her eyes still searching the crowd for any sign of need.

"Well, yeah," Ron answered abashedly at Hermione's know-it-all statement. "We were just coming to ask you if you'd had any luck."

Hermione turned to look at him, her eyes studying his face, before saying simply, "I did." Both Ron and Ernie's faces fell slightly.

"When did you see her?" Ernie asked.

"Where was she?" Ron interjected.

"I saw her not too long ago when she was getting off of the train," Hermione replied, bustling over towards another group of second years who were looking confused, making Ron and Ernie hurry in her wake. "She looked put out, maybe a bit upset. She probably hid from you when you were looking for her in the bathroom."

"Hermione, I'm telling you, she was _not_ in that bathroom!" Ron yelled angrily taking her words as an insinuation that he hadn't looked hard enough. Several students looked their way at his exclamation, and Ginny spotted them from a couple of students away and made her way over towards them. Ernie leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"You're very good at that, mate. Mind keeping it down?"

Sensing an argument coming, Hermione merely shook her head at his look of anger. "I'm not saying she was. She could have been anywhere. All I'm saying is that she's here now so this discussion is over," she said, her tone making it clear that the conversation was indeed over. She walked away from them.

"Tough break," Ginny soothed, having made it to their spot in time enough only to hear Hermione's final response. Ron turned to shoot her a nasty look. "What? I'm just trying to help," Ginny said, seeing his face and wondering what Ron had done to make Hermione so keen to avoid talking to him. Ron merely sighed and began looking for a carriage. Harry waved them over to the one he was sitting in alone, he and Ginny having been saving seats for Ron and Hermione.

Seeing the look on Harry's face, Ron told him, "She's probably riding with someone else." Harry nodded, closing the carriage door after a thoughtful look at Ron and Ernie, who were sitting across from him. They looked a bit peeved.

The carriage ride lapsed in silence. Ron and Ernie looked tired, and maybe a bit annoyed. Ginny wondered what she had walked in on at the Hogsmeade station, but decided not to ask. The two of them didn't look like they were interested in talking at the moment. She sighed, laying her head on Harry's shoulder, fatigue taking hold of her. Harry's sudden stiffness beneath her told her that this wasn't a good idea, but she didn't care. Yawning, she covered her mistake. "I'm so tired. All of that running around this morning really did me in." It was true enough. They had all bustled to get ready that morning so that they could reach the train before it left the station. Most of the party had woken up late, and they'd all had to scramble to be on time. In the back of her mind, though, Ginny knew that that was only part of the reason she'd wanted to lean on Harry's shoulder. They truly didn't get enough time together, and sitting next to him just wasn't the same. She'd just wanted something to make her feel close to him, and she'd acted on impulse. She could hardly say she regretted it, though.

"I can't wait until dinner. I'm starved," Ron said, looking towards Ginny and Harry. His gaze lingered for a moment, but then his eyes shifted back to looking out the window. "You really do look tired, Gin." Ginny felt Harry relax slightly beside her. If Ron didn't catch anything in the first glance, he wouldn't see it at all. Harry moved his left arm around to rest on the small of her back, the movement blocked from the view of Ron by Ginny's robes which were, conveniently enough, draped partially over Harry's leg. "Maybe you can nap while the sorting is going on," Ron offered. Ginny snorted.

"At the table? Yeah, I'd hardly be a laughing stock there," she laughed. Ron smiled.

"Well at least you'd have an excuse." Ginny's brow creased in confusion. She hardly gave Ron's statement a second thought, however, as her mind was on other things. Making sure that Ron didn't see her, she moved her hand slowly under the folds of her robe until she reached Harry's thigh and began to rub it with slow, deliberate movements. Harry's eyes fluttered closed, but he made no movement to stop her. Ron looked at Harry in confusion. "Something wrong, mate? You're practically falling asleep sitting up." Harry's eyes shot open.

"Huh? Oh," he said as he saw Ron looking at him. "No, I'm fine, I'm just…tired," Harry fought to get out, keeping his voice neutral and holding back a very strong urge to moan.

"And what would that reason be, Ronald?" Ginny reverted back to the former subject as Harry wiggled his hand around behind her and gave her arse a slight pinch. She jumped, her movement covered by the carriage going over a rut that jostled everyone within. She snatched her hand away and Harry flashed her a quick we'll-settle-this-later grin.

"Don't call me that," Ron lowered his voice, slight irritation coloring it. "You know how much I hate that name."

"Oh, all right," Ginny submitted, lying her head back down on Harry's shoulder. She felt him start to rub small circles on her back with his fingertips. "Tell me what this brilliant excuse is, then, _Ron_."

"Well, you can just tell them that your older brother thought you looked so peaceful while sleeping (the only time you look peaceful, mind you) that he let you sleep in," Ron said, laughing at his own joke. Ginny half-heartedly kicked his leg.

"Anyways," she said, rolling her eyes. "Back to reality…" Harry laughed.

"Sadly, Gin, this _is_ reality. And your brother really does have as many screws loose as he just let on," he said, laughing as Ron made a sound of disagreement and reached out to punch Harry in the shoulder playfully.

"I always knew there was something wrong with you," Ernie joked. "I'm kidding!" he quickly added as he saw Ron pull his fist back from the blow to Harry's shoulder. Ron nodded smugly, smiling.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

---------------

Hermione jumped down from the carriage she had ridden in with Lavender, Parvati, and Padma. Merlin, those girls never shut up. She'd regretted her choice almost instantly after taking her seat in their carriage. Oh well, at least it'd kept her from having to deal with Ron's persistent arguments. That boy just never knew when to give up. She started towards the grand set of steps leading to the entrance hall, but she didn't get very far before she was stopped by Ginny.

"Oh, hey, Ginny," Hermione said cheerfully. "Did you and Harry get a carriage to yourselves on the way up here?" she asked curiously.

"No," Ginny sighed. "Ron and Ernie sat with us. Ernie's seat was originally meant for you, but.."

"Oh, sorry about that," Hermione cut her off. "I didn't mean to leave you stranded with Ernie. I just didn't want to put up with Ron's constant arguing against my judgment." Ginny shook her head as Hermione tried to apologize.

"No, Ernie sitting with us was no problem, really. We didn't mind at all," Ginny said earnestly. "But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. I want to know what you and Ron were arguing about at the Hogsmeade station," Ginny asked, her curiosity evident in her eyes. At Hermione's guarded look, she quickly added, "Hermione, you know I'm nosy! Curiosity killed the cat, and it'll definitely kill me before anything else does!" Hermione snorted at her statement.

"It wasn't anything important. Ron and Ernie thought that Pansy disappeared from the train after walking out of the bathroom because I guess they were arguing about something and then they heard her scream, and then when they looked up she wasn't standing there anymore," Hermione explained. "I showed up because I had heard the scream, and they were going on about how she'd disappeared and a bunch of other tripe. I tried to be rational about it and suggested that maybe she'd seen a bug or something and taken off, because we both know Pansy's a wimp, but they wouldn't hear me. So, to humor them, I told them to keep a lookout for Pansy, and if they didn't see her during the fifteen minutes before everyone got off of the train, we could bring it to Dumbledore or something," she rushed on. "I'd hardly expected them to come to me saying that they hadn't seen her, though. That was the argument you witnessed at the Hogsmeade station, because, fortunately, by the time they came to me reporting that they hadn't seen her, I had. Ron wasn't too happy about being wrong, though." Ginny nodded in understanding.

"Well, we both also know that Ron's a pigheaded arse. Although he was being pretty friendly in the carriage.." she added, thoughtfully. "It's nothing," she said quickly when Hermione scrunched her forehead in confusion. "Just a load of dung that he's trying to pull about being my protective big brother."

Hermione spotted Harry and Ron headed their way from her view over Ginny's shoulder. "Merlin, Gin, how fast did you run to get up here?" Hermione asked incredulously. "The rest of your carriage group is just now reaching us." Ginny smiled sheepishly.

"Well, I wanted to talk to you without Ron's interference. You wouldn't have been able to get two words out that he didn't like without him saying so," she laughed. "Another bad thing about my brother." Hermione laughed, and they turned and headed up the steps towards the entrance hall. The two boys behind them sighted them when they had gotten halfway up the steps. Ron and Harry called out their names loud enough that Hermione, against her better judgement, had no choice but to turn around. Ginny stood waiting beside her, and the two boys ran up to meet them.

"Holy _shit_ you run fast, Ginny," Ron panted, doubled over with his hands on his knees to support his weight. Harry nodded his agreement, although a covert glance between Hermione and Ginny that they both saw but Ron didn't happen to catch told them that he knew exactly why Ginny had run so fast.

"Hey," Hermione said, holding her head high although her light voice betrayed her stern countenance. "Watch your mouth in front of your innocent little sister, Ron," she reprimanded. Harry and Ginny both burst into laughter.

"Innocent…riiight.." Ginny said, her tone of voice leaving no doubt about her thoughts on this statement. All four of them laughed at her words, joining her in her resumed trek up the stairs.

---------------

High above the cheerful students, a face was pressed against the glass of a 6th floor window. The window was fogged in places from his breathing, and faint shapes of a nose tip and widespread fingers could be seen in the clouds of fog. He glared angrily at the students below before turning around swiftly, wobbling a little from the sudden movement. Regaining his balance, the boy strutted across the dark classroom, intending to go back to his room. 'So, the students arrive at last…'


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Arrival 

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table, Ginny at his side, watching Dumbledore closely. The old man sat at the staff table, talking to Professor McGonogall at his right. His face appeared cheerful, his snow-white beard rumpling to meet his nose as he smiled at something McGonogall said. His wise blue eyes sparkled in the same old mischievous way as he glanced around the hall. Harry could tell that he was merely following a habit of checking for trouble. After being headmaster for so long, one's internal clock seemed to unconsciously set itself. Then he focused on McGonogall as she stood to bring in the first years for their sorting.

Harry used this time as an opportunity to study Dumbledore. He appeared fine, although his pallor was a bit pale, but Harry didn't know how much Dumbledore was hiding from his students. He knew that Dumbledore had many secrets, and Harry imagined that it wouldn't be too hard for Dumbledore to mask a grimace or two from a room full of teenagers. His eyes traveled down Dumbledore's cloak and came to rest upon a wooden walking stick resting against the table leg between Dumbledore's and Trelawney's chairs. His eyes widened. It had to be Dumbledore's. He'd never known Professor Trelawney to complain about a hurt leg, and he's long since pegged her to be the type to complain whenever she could get away with is. The crowd filled with applause, and Harry mechanically joined in. A kick in the shin jolted him from his thoughts, however. He turned towards the source to find Ginny looking at him worriedly. She leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"Are you okay?" Her hot breath against his cheek set Harry's mind buzzing. He nodded. Kissing him on the cheek, she pulled back to search his face. She turned back to face the center of the hall after mouthing a quick 'okay'. Harry looked in the direction of her gaze to see Dumbledore rising from his seat at the staff table. The murmuring in the hall ceased as Dumbledore rose, and Harry could feel the intense anxiety and the overall silence pressing in on him. Dumbledore seemed to notice it as well, for he smiled and raised his arms as if to embrace them from where he stood. Clearing his throat, he began.

"Welcome, students, to another year at Hogwarts," he called out, observing the silent faces staring back at him. "I know that you are all hungry from your journey here, for it has been quite a few hours since dear Esmelda brought the food trolley around on the train, but I wished to address an urgent matter before we begin our feast. In regards to the letter that you all received a few short weeks ago about my current state of health, I would like to personally tell you all that I am well. Due to a few difficulties that I faced over the summer, I had no choice but to postpone the start of term." The look on Dumbledore's face clearly showed how he felt about this.

"Ah, well, what's done is done. I would just like those of you who were worried to be at ease. I am fine." He raised his arms again while saying this, gesturing furiously with every word that left his mouth. Harry couldn't help but to smile, but then quickly frowned as a flash of pain crossed Dumbledore's face. Dumbledore caught his eye, noticing the look of worry on Harry's face. He smiled reassuringly, then turned back to his students. The entire ordeal took place in a matter of seconds. "I must admit that my body betrays me at times, for, sadly, my youth didn't last forever, but I am still young at heart- for that is all an old man can cling to- and I am determined to take anything that shall come my way. That being said, let us begin our meal."

The food had barely begun to grace the table before Ron was filling his plate. Harry watched him with amusement before noticing the two feminine pairs of worried eyes upon him. Grudgingly, he lifted his plate and began to fill it, if not for his growling stomach, then merely for the benefit of his watchful friends. When he felt as if he'd gathered a decent meal, he placed his plate in front of him, staring at it reproachfully. Well, here went nothing. He picked up his fork, spearing a bit of his mashed potatoes and bringing them to his mouth. His attention was momentarily distracted elsewhere, however, as the sounds of an argument reached his ears. He focused on the scene across the table from him as the hot bite slid down his throat.

"I do _not_ eat like a horse!" Ron had gasped at Hermione, eyeing the scowling girl reproachfully.

"Well, you could have fooled me," Hermione shot back. She turned back to her plate, obviously assuming that the conversation was over, but Ron wasn't finished yet.

"What is it with you today?" Ron asked. "Just because you're upset you got paired with Malfoy doesn't mean you have to take it out on the rest of us, you know?" Hermione dropped her fork.

"And just because you're upset that I proved you wrong doesn't mean that you have to be an _arse_," she shot back, her face neutral. Ron blazed red.

"Now, you wait just a second-"

"Would you two just quit your rambling?" Fred interrupted. Ron hit him with a glare, but turned back to his plate with vigor.

"Yeah, please, so the rest of us can eat our meal in peace," George backed his twin. "Hermione, you lovely thing, we both know that the only reason you're so short with out dear brother is because you're enraptured with him-" Hermione protested at this "-so just do us a favor and give up on the 1st year methods; picking on your ickle crush only gets you so far," he continued. "We both know what you _actually_ want to do to him," he finished, wiggling his eyebrows. Hermione looked at him in open disgust. Ron however, looked enlightened.

"You know," he began, puffing up his chest a bit, "they do have a point. All of those times that you corrected my essays and things-"

"Were more out of pity than anything," Hermione interrupted, shaking her head at Fred and George, who were now trying to hide snickers. "I don't know why the two of you are laughing," she admonished. "You're the ones who led him on." Ron merely returned to his dinner, feeling slighted enough for one day. "I do hope you don't take offense, Ron," Hermione said. "They have no bloody clue what they're talking about, though," she continued.

"Well, Hermione, you can't blame us," Fred told her in a fake wheedling voice. "You just seem so infatuated with our little brother that we felt the need to take matters into our own hands." George continued.

"Yeah, Hermione, we understand that it's only because you're just _so_ horribly _frustrated_ that you're angry with him."

"That _must_ be it."

Against her will, Hermione laughed, her anger forgotten in the happiness of being in the company of her friends once more. Merlin, she'd missed these arguments. She looked towards Harry across the table. She couldn't help but smile at the sight of the smile on Harry's face. He hadn't smiled in days. He'd been so worried about Dumbledore lately that it was a workload just to keep him eating, sleeping, and breathing. "You feeling better, Harry?" she asked, continuing her meal.

"Much," Harry replied, eating his own food. "It's reassuring to see him up and moving. At least this way I know it's not too serious." Hermione nodded in agreement.

"I'm sure he would have written Arthur or Sirius if something were truly wrong. It would most likely have to do with Order business." Harry looked around when Hermione mentioned the Order. "Don't worry, Harry," Hermione reassured him. "I made sure that no one was paying attention before I said anything."

Harry nodded, resuming his food. He chewed thoughtfully, mulling over Hermione's words. "I guess you're right," he turned to her once more. "I guess I just needed confirmation, that's all." Hermione smiled comfortingly at him.

"We all need that sometimes," she stated, patting him softly on the back. "Just don't let yourself get too worked up over these things."

Harry smiled, acknowledging her statement, then faced Ron across the table, listening in on he and Dean's conversation.

"Who do you thing will be replacing Angelina and Alicia, then?" Dean was asking Ron animatedly.

"'Dunno," Ron replied thoughtfully. "That's Harry's call, isn't it?"

"True," Dean replied. "I can't wait to try out. You still playing keeper?" he asked Ron meaningfully.

"Yeah," Ron replied, catching the meaning behind Dean's words. Upon seeing Dean's face fall, he added, "Sorry, mate. You'll just have to try out for another position. I'm sure you'll make it, though."

"You'd make a good chaser," Harry interjected. Ron and Dean turned to face him. "I've seen you play, and I think it's a good idea," he continued after he had their attention. Dean nodded.

"That was my second bet," he agreed.

"Well, then there you go," Harry replied. He turned to face Ginny when she tapped his arm. "Yes, lo-," he stopped suddenly, remembering their companions. Ginny continued, covering his slip.

"I've been meaning to ask you…" Harry motioned for her to continue. He felt the atmosphere among their group shift a bit as the tone of Ginny's voice registered.

"Well, are you going to continue the D.A.?" she continued. When Harry didn't move, she added, "You know, Dumbledore's Army?" She rushed on, not giving him a chance to answer. "I mean, I know we're going to have a suitable teacher this year, someone who won't be teaching us the load of dung that Umbridge hag was trying to get away with, but I really would like to continue working on defensive magic. I can't speak for everyone else, of course, but I know that it definitely made _me_ feel safer knowing that I was doing everything possible to learn to protect myself." She stopped for a moment, waiting for him to reply. After a moment of silence, she hastily added, "I understand if you don't want to continue, because I know you have loads of homework and now you're back on the quidditch team you'll be horrendously busy, I just thought-"

"Ginny," Ron, whose attention had been drawn along with several others', "Let him have a chance to speak, will you?" He motioned towards Harry. Ginny nodded hastily, closing her mouth with an audible snap. Their end of the table was silent, most of them now staring at Harry, waiting for an answer. Harry sat quietly.

"Well," he began, drawing out the word. He hurried to continue when he saw Ginny's face fall. "I guess I just assumed…-" Harry scrambled for words. What was he to say? "I definitely won't completely nix the idea," he began. "I'm just not sure how often we'll be able to meet, because you brought up some valid points. I _do_ have quidditch now, and I'll have loads more assignments. I'm not even sure who would be interested now that we'll have a proper professor in charge," he trailed off, having gotten his general idea across.

"Well, I'll be happy to join up again." All heads swiveled to face Fred, owner of the interrupting voice. Ron was sure that a few seconds before, Fred had been in an intense conversation with Lee Jordan.

"Count me in, too," George added from beside him. "We're still carrying our galleons."

"I'd like to join, too, Harry," Neville said from Hermione's left. "It'll make my Gram proud, that's for sure."

"It'll be wonderful to look forward to Dumbledore's Army again," Hermione consented. "Although we'll have to keep a firm hand on our homework. These years are important."

"I'll talk to Seamus about it, too," Dean joined. "He only got to come around for one lesson last year before that _toad_ put an end to it." Several others around him nodded, the look in their eyes clearly showing their remembrance.

"Well, then," Harry acceded. "Since everyone seems so interested," he paused, looking around at them, then turned to Ginny. "I'll see what I can do." Ginny grinned happily, and they returned to their meal, happily chattering once more.

-------------------

Harry sat back, his stomach now pleasantly full, and tried to remember the last time he'd been this happy. Sometime before they had received their school letters, that was certain. He was glad to be surrounded by his friends within the walls of Hogwarts once more. Currently, the others were trying to get him to discuss possible lesson plans for the D.A.

"Come on, Harry, what are you going to teach us?" Dean was pleading.

"I don't know," Harry replied thoughtfully. "I hadn't really thought about it yet.

"Well," Hermione interceded, "you've already taught us the patronus, expelliarmus, levicorpus-"

"Stunners, and the full body bind," Ginny finished.

"I suppose there are a few more things I could teach you," Harry mused.

"Like what, mate?" Ron asked eagerly.

"Well, you never know what could be useful, do you? There's enervate, protego, aguamenti-"

"Why would we need to learn aguamenti?" Ron interrupted.

"Have you ever tried to put out a fire without water?" Harry asked, laughing. Dean and Ginny snickered; Ron reddened.

"Yeah, now that they've announced that Voldemort is back, anything is possible," Hermione, who had gotten quite used to saying the wizard's name, added in a serious tone.

"I have an idea," Neville murmured. Harry motioned for him to continue, but at that moment, the table cleared, and all eyes turned to rest upon the head table to hear Dumbledore's speech. The hall faded into silence, and Dumbledore left his seat once more.

"I hope you all have enjoyed your meal," Dumbledore began, gazing around at the students before him. "I just want to impress a few words upon you before sending your food-befuddled brains off to sleep.

"I am relieved to have you all here with me once more, and to the first years, for the first time, for there is always safety in numbers, and especially among friends. As many of you know, Hogwarts is one of the safest places to be with Voldemort gathering strength. Therefore, it is reassuring to know that while our brilliant professors are doing their jobs and replacing all of the knowledge that has most likely evaporated in the warm weather during our break, you will all be far from danger. However, there are no chances when it comes to the lives of my students, so I have a few rules that I would like you to keep in mind during our term.

"As you all know, each of your houses has its own password required to gain entrance. I would like you to all have your passwords memorized, and I must beg you not to write any of them down, because it is entirely too easy for any piece of paper to fall into the wrong hands. To those of you third year and higher, our trips to Hogsmeade will be limited, and it will be assured that each of you has proper permission to visit the village before you are allowed to leave the grounds. I must ask all of you not to wander alone on the grounds and not to enter the Forbidden Forest. Also, do not leave the grounds unauthorized, and definitely do _not_ leave them unaccompanied. These are dangerous times, and we must do everything in our power to protect ourselves and each other. On that note, I bid you all a good night and a wonderful term," Dumbledore turned to leave the table and paused, facing his students once more.

"Oh, and I would also like to remind you all that if you need anything, anything at all, I can, at most times, be found in my office in the west wing of the castle. The password to gain entrance can be learned from any professor in this school. Also, if you notice any strange behavior among any of your friends, I kindly ask you to report it to one of your professors or myself. Remember, you could be saving a life," Dumbledore winked, his face grave. "Good night."

The words rang across the hall with a tone of finality, and their echoes were drowned out by the deafening screech of the four house tables' many benches against the stone floor of the great hall. Harry and Ron strode in the direction of the doors while Hermione rushed ahead to guide the first years to the portrait of the fat lady, which housed the whole of Gryffindor house. Harry and Ron conversed on the way to their room, then informed Hermione that the three of them would need a quick word in the morning, as Harry was exhausted, and wasn't up for more than the trek to his bed. When his friends climbed the spiral staircase to their warm, waiting beds, Harry stayed behind to sneak a kiss from Ginny, whispering in her ear. Then he trudged up to bed, falling asleep immediately.

---------------

The sounds of various snores filled the walls of a large office, it's every surface covered with gleaming trinkets and spindles. An old wizard sat hunched over a narrow wooden desk, furiously scribbling a message, which was hidden beneath the wizard's trailing silver beard. It was clear, however, that the snores originated not from him, but from the many portraits mounted on the walls above him. Brow furrowed in frowning concentration and oblivious to the noise around him, the wizard jotted down a few more words on the parchment before him, then rolled it up, tying it with a piece of twine. Tossing it up into the air, he caused the roll to disappear with a flick of his wand as a knock sounded at the door opposite him.

"Enter," the wizened man announced to the empty room. The door opened, and in stepped a middle-aged witch in forest green robes.

"Albus, he's alerted that he'll be arriving tomorrow," Minerva McGonogall informed him.

"What time?" Dumbledore asked.

"That he is unsure of," McGonogall replied. "He claims to be rather busy."

"I'm sure he is," Dumbledore replied curtly. "But that does not mean that the rest of us are not." He sighed, bringing his hand up to adjust his spectacles, which had slipped a few inches down his nose in his recent haste. McGonogall shifted in the doorway, unsure whether she was required to wait for his dismissal.

Dumbledore looked up, seeming to remember her presence. "I will speak to him. You may go." At his words, Minerva nodded in acknowledgement, then turned on the spot and made her exit from the moonlit office, closing the door quietly behind her.

---------------

Harry blinked his eyes open to encounter the harsh glare of morning sunlight, then winced, blearily reaching for his glasses. Placing them on the bridge of his nose, he sat up and looked around, coming to rest upon Ron's sleeping form in the bed adjoining his. Slipping silently from his bedclothes, Harry crept from the room containing his sleeping friends after dressing quickly. He made his way to the common room, taking a seat before the fire, which lit itself and was soon blazing merrily. Harry sat deep in thought, perusing D.A. lessons, quidditch practices, and Dumbledore's mysterious illness until his thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of his redheaded girlfriend.

Having crept quietly down from the fifth year girls' dormitories, Ginny wound her arms around Harry's neck from where she was positioned behind the couch. Harry was far from surprised, having been awaiting her arrival. He craned his neck to see her as she made her way around the end of the chair, seating herself in his lap and laying her head on his chest. She was still donned in her pajamas.

"Morning," Harry mumbled into her hair, placing a feather-light kiss on her hairline. Ginny felt his chest rumble under her cheek. He wrapped his arms around her to prevent her falling to the floor.

"Same to you," Ginny replied, snuggling closer. She breathed in deep, taking in the musky smell that lingered on his clothes. "How long do you reckon we have?" she asked, shifting to look up at him from her place in his lap.

"Everyone in my room was sleeping, especially your brother. We have time," Harry replied calmly. Ginny seemed to accept this answer, turning to lay once more on his chest; she reveled in the feel of his arms around her, trying to absorb the feeling. Harry laid his head on the back of the chair, closing his eyes. They lay there for a while, neither of them wanting to risk disturbing the peace that had settled over them.

After a while, Harry raised his head, slowly looking round to the common room window. The sun had risen, bathing the room in sunlight. He looked down at the angel in his arms; her deep, tranquil breathing made him worry that she had drifted off to sleep. He flexed his arms a bit, and when she didn't move, he shifted a bit in the seat. Ginny opened her eyes to find Harry gazing down at her. She smiled lazily. "I wasn't sleeping."

Harry laughed. "I'm sure you weren't," he replied. Ginny grinned guiltily. "You have to go. Ron will be up soon," Harry whispered. Ginny nodded, moving from her spot on his lap. Harry immediately felt a pang of loss. Leaning down to kiss him, Ginny ran her fingers through his messy black hair, smoothing an unruly piece above his ear. Then she tiptoed from the room, and Harry watched her travel back up the stairs from whence she'd come. He'd only just torn his gaze from the empty staircase when he heard a voice, causing him to jump.

"What are you doing, Harry?" Ron asked, having stumbled sleepily from the boys' dormitory seconds before, still clad in his pajamas.

"Nothing, really, just thinking," Harry replied after recovering from his initial shock at Ron's interruption. "Were you headed to breakfast?" he added after glancing out of the window seemingly for the first time and judging that it must nearly be time to eat.

"Well, no," Ron began. "I'd noticed that you were missing."

"Oh, yeah, I woke up pretty early," Harry said, scratching his head sheepishly. "Sorry about that. Want to head to breakfast, then?"

In the time it took for Ron to get changed, Hermione and Ginny joined Harry in the common room, Ginny newly dressed, and the four of them were soon on their way to fill their rumbling stomachs. The atmosphere was cheerful as they took their places at the mostly empty Gryffindor table. They had arrived early. The tables gleamed with the reflected sunlight that the enchanted ceiling beamed down upon them, and the peaceful pale white clouds that drifted above them gave the hall a serene appearance.

Before long, they were surrounded by chattering students, and were unable to carry out their promised conversation without being overheard, and so the three of them contented themselves with continued plans for the D.A. lessons that it now seemed many were looking forward to.

"I've been approached by 15 more people hoping to join Dumbledore's Army," Hermione had informed them shortly after they'd begun their meal.

"News spreads fast as lightening in this place," Ron muttered. Hermione ignored him.

"It seems that now that it's not such a big risk, a lot more people are interested in learning to defend themselves."

"Yeah, well, you said it; they didn't seem too keen to protect themselves last year when it meant risking their necks, did they?" Ron had asked moodily.

"Ron, you know perfectly well that most of that was Umbridge's doing; she was threatening to sack people using her position at the ministry," Hermione admonished, loading her plate full of steaming oatmeal. "Besides, you should be _happy_ that Harry's classes are so popular," she added.

"I'm not," Harry replied moodily. "Where in Merlin's beard are we going to fit them all?"

"I'm sure the Room of Requirement will expand as necessary," Hermione replied matter-of-factly. The discussion was drawn to a close as the hall was suddenly filled with owls delivering the morning post and Hermione disappeared behind the day's edition of the Daily Prophet.

"Anyone we know dead?" Ron asked cautiously after noticing Hermione's disappearance. Hermione didn't reply right away, but rather continued to browse the paper.

"Lucius Malfoy's been released from Azkaban," she relayed setting down her paper to reveal the scowling photograph of the haughty wizard gracing its cover. Harry choked on his orange juice.

"_What_?"

"Oh, be realistic, Harry," Hermione replied to the scandalized look on his face. "It can't be all that surprising. We knew that the Malfoys were well off."

"Well, yeah, but-"

"But nothing, mate," Ron intervened. "The Malfoys can pay their way out of anything." Harry scowled, but let the subject drop, and they continued their meal in silence. When it was clear that most everyone was finished and obviously lingering, Hermione glanced around, checking her watch.

"Why haven't they passed out schedules yet?" she fretted. "It's nearly nine!" Many of the other students seemed to wonder about this, too, as everyone had begun watching the staff table expectantly, waiting for their head of house to hand them their class schedules. None of the professors seemed to have noticed this, however; many of them were still finishing their breakfasts. Finally, Dumbledore broke the silence. He stood up, addressing the hall at large.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," he said, smiling at his choice of words. "I am sure that you are all wondering why you have not received your schedules. Well, to ease your fears, you will not be late for your first class of the day, because not one of you has a first class of the day to be attending. Your classes for today have been cancelled, or rather postponed until tomorrow, when they will run as usual. You will not receive your schedules until then."

The hall erupted in murmurs as Hermione turned to Ron and Harry with a look of surprise. "Well, I guess that explains it then," she said after a moment. Ron grinned in response, then turned towards Dumbledore to hear the rest of the announcement.

"I am sure that you are all _now_ wondering why your classes are not proceeding as usual," Dumbledore paused for effect. "It is my pleasure to announce to you that our Minister of Magic, Mr. Cornelius Fudge, will be visiting our humble school. These are dark times, and the ministry will certainly sleep better, along with many of your parents, I believe, if they know that Hogwarts' security measures are adequate; withholding all opposition, the minister will be here for the better part of today to assure that fact. Knowing this, I expect you all to be on your finest behavior while the minister and his colleagues are present. While they may not have authority within our walls, rest assured that whomever may disrupt their peaceful stay will answer to _me_," Dumbledore finished, his tone dangerously serious. The mute faces staring up at him conveyed understanding, so he continued. "Keeping that in mind, feel free to enjoy your day off. It's a beautiful day, so put it to good use; just be sure to mind anything that the minister or his associates may ask of you," Dumbledore smiled. "I now release you from the tables. If you have any questions, feel free to come forward with them," he added, resuming his seat. Harry was already considering his options for the day.

Hermione spoke up after the general murmur in the hall had died down and a few students were beginning to leave their tables. "Well, what do you two want to do today?" Ron and Harry were already deep in discussion. Seeing this, Hermione scooted closer to listen.

"Last minute quidditch meeting?" Ron was saying. Harry shook his head after a moment's consideration.

"Nah, the team would hate me. I wouldn't get a decent effort out of 'em for the next 5 practices."

"Well, what about a D.A. meeting?" Ron persisted. "Fred and George said they still have their coins, right? What if other members still carry them?" he added. Hermione looked to Harry to hear his reply.

"Well, I don't know how many people would be willing to come on our free day off.." Harry reasoned. "Besides, I don't even have any lessons planned yet."

"Well, then," Hermione stood up, leaning over between Harry and Ron to grab her paper and roll it up. "Lets plan some lessons." Harry shrugged, warming to the idea, and rose from his place on the bench. Ron stood as well. They were halfway to the doors when Hermione spun to face Harry, a look of excitement on her face.

"We should go outside! To our spot by the lake!" she said, trying to keep her voice down.

"It's so nice out, and we don't _have_ to be inside, do we?" she hurried on, mistaking Harry's expression for unhappiness. Harry hastened to correct her.

"No, we could go outside," he replied. "Why not?" Ron smiled in agreement, and they changed directions to head towards the front doors, laughing as a small first year who had been talking to his friends and not watching where he was going walked directly into the Gryffindor hourglass with a loud _click_, the buttons of his shirt connecting with the glass frame. Hitting the ground hard, he quickly stood up, looking around to see if anyone besides his chuckling friends had seen his fall. Harry, Hermione, and Ron quickly cleared their faces of all traces of mirth.

Pushing open the doors, Harry breathed in the late summer scent as a breeze ruffled his hair. He felt his mind drain of all the worry that had been suffocating it throughout recent days. His shoulders and back relaxed, his muscles releasing the strained tensed feeling they'd assumed since the two short weeks previous, when he had received his letter from the school. Another gust of wind assuaged him, stronger than the last, and he felt his robes billow out behind him, his thoughts carried aloft with the last traces of the breeze.

Releasing the breath, he squinted as he surveyed the sun-drenched grounds. This would be good for him, he thought; a chance to relax, nothing to mind except his friends' opinions about some future dated gathering. He smiled as he spotted the glossy boulder perched at the edge of the lake under a large willow tree; this would be fun.

---------------

Pansy hurried along the dungeon corridors; the candelabras lining the walls flickering in her wake. She swiftly turned a corner, and the haughty black owl perched on her shoulder tightened its claws in irritation. She mildly noticed this, however, as the pain lurched through her collarbone, so set was she on her destination. She had a message to deliver. Entering the Slytherin common room, she strode through it, many of the younger students looking up from their tasks upon hearing her footsteps. Ignoring them, she entered a hallway that branched off of the far side and strode to the end. Turning left, she came to a stop facing a lone black door. Reaching up, she grasped a polished gold knocker, giving the door a firm rap.

Nothing happened. Not a sound was heard from within. Pansy let out a breath; that was to be expected. Glancing over her shoulder and checking to make sure that no one was near and none of the doors stood ajar, she leaned in; her nose pressed against the solid oak of the door.

"Your father's written," she murmured against the wood, knowing that he would be listening.

Staying close, she leaned back to watch the door. After a moment, she heard the lock click, and the door swung inward a few feet to reveal a pale form. Pansy squinted at him, but as the room was dark and the hallway was dim, it was hard to make out much at all. She slowly lifted her arm to hold out a roll of parchment. At her movement, the flame on the candelabra nearest them flickered, throwing the boy's face into sharp relief. Pansy gasped.

"Oh, Draco," she moaned quietly, sharply drawing a breath as her eyes searched his face. "What happened?"

Draco was unbelievably pale, and his cheeks were hollow; a result of his stubborn verdict against eating throughout the few days he'd spent in his room. His eyes were heavily lined with exhaustion, apparent evidence that he hadn't slept much either, and his tousled blonde hair hung limply over his face, covering one of what was usually a startling pair of luminous grey eyes. They now gazed lifelessly at her from a seemingly lifeless face. Draco moved to grasp the letter in Pansy's hand, and the lock of hair covering the left side of his face shifted to reveal a deep red gash above his eye. Pansy observed all of this, her somber gaze coming to rest upon Draco's hand, which was now tugging at the parchment she held. Loosening her grip, she let her arm drop limply to her side, letting out the breath she'd been holding. Tearing the seal on the note, he lifted his arm to close the door and Pansy pushed it back, stepping into the doorway.

"Draco, what's going on?" she asked again, peering searchingly about the room she had revealed. Draco struggled with the door for a moment before giving up and retreating within. Pansy followed him to the small den, closing the door behind her as Draco perched on a chair and unrolled the parchment. The owl on her shoulder took flight, headed towards what Pansy knew to be Draco's bedroom. Pansy took a moment to appraise the room's appearance, noting the drawn shades and spotless tables. It looked as if the room had been unoccupied for a while, but Pansy knew that Draco had to have been here.

Her gaze was drawn back to Draco as he tossed the perused note aside. He was staring silently at the floor, his back held stiffly from the back of the chair. After a moment, he slowly lifted his head to meet Pansy's scrutinizing stare.

"I'm fine," he muttered, his voice whisper soft in the dark room.

"Like hell you are," Pansy immediately refuted. "Who knows how long you've been in here, and from the looks of it, you haven't even left your room." She stood, coming to place a hand on his shoulder. Draco looked up at her. Sighing, he rubbed a hand over his eyes, the movement revealing to Pansy just how exhausted he actually was. It was pointless to try to hide it anyways, his mind reasoned. She wasn't stupid. Sighing again, he recounted the time he'd spent listlessly lying in bed, letting his mind wander to happier times, days free of family and protocol. Had it really been a week? Were his fellow Slytherins really here? It was almost too good to be true.

"Is it Sunday?" he croaked. Had they just arrived? Pansy squeezed his shoulder amiably at his words.

"It's Monday," she replied softly, giving his mind time to absorb the information. "It was supposed to be the first day of classes," she pressed. Draco's eyes widened at his mistake. Well, it wouldn't be the first day he'd missed. Lucius would be angry, though. He groaned inwardly at the thought. Seeing the look on his face, Pansy knew that her remark had hit home. "They've been cancelled, though," she added. Draco looked up at her, relief evident on his face. He grunted in acknowledgement. Pansy looked around once more. "You need to eat something."

Draco opened his mouth to protest, then realized that his stomach was raw with hunger. When was the last time he'd eaten? He snapped his fingers, a house elf appearing immediately. He let Pansy take over, closing his eyes and leaning back into the chair.

"What is you wanting, sir?" the house elf squeaked. Seeing his movement, it looked up towards Pansy uncertainly.

"Bring me a tray for breakfast, please," Pansy ordered, her voice not unkind. "Sausages, pancakes, toast, anything and everything you can rummage up. Oh, and some orange juice, too, please." The elf nodded, disappearing with a crack. "And you," Pansy turned on him, pushing her finger into his chest. Draco opened his eyes. "Get yourself in the shower," she told him, nodding her head towards his bedroom, which had an adjoined bathroom. "I'll settle things here. Do you need to write back?" she motioned towards the discarded parchment lying on the rug under the coffee table. Draco shook his head. "Then go!" she demanded, pointing swiftly towards his bedroom door.

Draco nearly grinned in euphoria. Merlin, it'd been a while since he'd heard that imperious voice. He rose from the chair he'd been seated on, striding towards the door she still ominously pointed to. Passing through the bedroom, he traipsed into the bathroom; the cold tile floor felt refreshing on his bare feet. Flicking the light on, he reached to start the shower, quickly divesting himself of his clothes. Stepping under the lukewarm stream of the shower, he breathed in the steam that was rapidly cloaking the small bathroom.

He would be all right, he thought. Pansy would take care of everything.

---------------

Hermione laughed, splashing Ron with water from the lake as she waded back onto the shore. She perched herself next to Harry on the rather large boulder he was sitting on, surveying her damage. Ron was currently shaking himself dry, his shirt flapping around his small frame, reminding her quite humorously of a large, shaggy, red-haired dog. She laughed again at the thought. Ron grinned at her amusement.

"And do you remember when Neville blew up that couldron when Snape tried to teach us the cheering draught?" Harry doubled over in laughter at the memory of Snape's face during that incident.

"Yeah, and _we_ had to clean it up," Hermione's face darkened at the thought. "That was the day Snape tried to say that I was too smart to be learning fairly. He tried to accuse me of cheating," she cried in anger.

"Yeah, well, that's all in the past," Harry quickly reassured her. Ron adeptly changed the subject.

"All I'm saying," Ron said, taking a seat on the other side of Harry, his rolled up jeans dripping from his dangling legs and into the lake below them, "is that maybe the banishment charm isn't such a good idea. Can you imagine trying to teach it to Neville?"

"Yeah, but it'd be a mite useful, don't you think?" Harry argued. "It's awfully easy to get rid of dementors and such when you know that charm."

"Well," Hermione interjected. "Our goal here is to give our friends the proper tools to defend themselves. Accidents that take place while we're teaching them are a risk we have to take." Ron shrugged in defeat after she had finished.

"I'm just saying.." he trailed off. He surveyed the grounds behind them, watching various students strolling among the greenery, many of them having settled into their own areas to chatter and laugh with friends. Hermione looked out across the lake, examining the effects of the sun on its surface as the water rippled with echoing testimony of unfathomable activity below. She basked in the peaceful atmosphere, wishing they could visit the area more often. Harry sat quietly next to her, a smile gracing his face. She knew without looking that his mind had wandered.

Checking her watch, she turned to face Ron, gaining his attention. "It's about time for lunch." She giggled, as Ron's stomach had just given a loud grumble. "Although," she added," I hardly doubt you needed my confirmation." Ron grinned sheepishly. They both roused Harry, and the three of them began the long trek back to the castle, Hermione's head drifting amongst the clouds. She absently listened to the boys' exchange as she mulled over thoughts of her own. This was the first day in a long time that she'd been at ease about her imposing lack of a love life, she realized. There were some things, she mused, that only your friends could be credited for.

Smiling, she raced ahead of them, turning a cartwheel in the lush grass that carpeted the school grounds. The boys laughed in surprise.

"Where did that come from?" Harry asked in amusement, he and Ron's conversation having halted at Hermione's display.

"I have no idea," Hermione stated gaily. Turning a circle where she stood, she held her arms out, spinning until she was dizzy. Waiting until the boys had caught up, she began to hum, skipping back to the castle at their side. She gasped as a sharp pain shot up from her heel, and she lifted her foot to look for the source. She'd stepped on a stone. Explaining herself to the boys, who were wearing twin masks of worry, she hurried to catch up.

"I'm starving," Ron announced, rubbing his stomach.

"What's new?" Harry teased. Ron playfully punched him in the shoulder.

"Seriously, Ron," Hermione added. "Are you sure you're not pregnant?" Ron paled at the reference, making Hermione and Harry burst into snickers once again. Hermione's vision swam, and she reached up to wipe the tears of mirth from her face. She halted her reach in confusion as she realized that there weren't any. Doubles of Harry and Ron turned to watch Hermione wipe her eyes once more, then look around them in confusion.

"You alright there, Hermione?" Harry spoke up, noticing her apparent disorientation. Hermione looked up at him, her eyes unfocused. Seeing her face, he reached out to grab hold of her arm. "Hermione?" Ron turned to find the source of the commotion, only to see Hermione's eyes roll back into her skull, sagging into Harry's weight.

"Hermione!" he cried, rushing to help Harry hold her up.

Hermione's vision darkened as she looked up at Ron and Harry in confusion. Was this what a heat stroke felt like? She could feel her toes starting to go numb, and she wondered if her hands were, too, as she couldn't seem to feel them. She watched as her friends' faces seemed to move farther and farther away, blinking rapidly to bring them back. What was going on? A sudden rush of heat enclosed her, making her mind buzz. Harry and Ron appeared to be talking to her. Her eyes lolled; she couldn't seem to focus on what they were saying. Then everything went silent, and she couldn't hear them at all.

Sighing out the air she hadn't realized she was holding, Hermione felt the last of her will drain from her, and everything around her went black.


End file.
